Kindled Flame
by Keithan
Summary: COMPLETE. Their flame has been kindled and its flare will continue to blaze blindingly unto the ends of the world. [legolas & estel(aragorn]
1. Part 1

**a/n: **I finally have this up. Inspired by the first drafts of _Words Fail _(which I decided to continue, btw), this supposedly long one-shot turned out into just that, long, but too long for me to have it only in one part. And no, I don't think this would be angst. :P Heed the warnings. Please.

* * *

**Title: **_Kindled Flame   
_**Author: **Keithan   
**Disclaimers: **Lord of the Rings and its characters belongs to their respective owners.   
**Rating: **PG   
**Series: **1/7   
**Warnings: **None other than _implied _love between same gender. _mild/implied slash _; legolas/(estel)aragorn; (estel)aragorn/legolas   
**Summary: **Having no tale to tell of its story would not mean that the light from the love of hope and its green leaves did not exist. But of the time when Hope was young, unburdened still of the cares and troubles of the world, only this tale was told.   
**Notes: **Aragorn and Legolas, a sort of backstory. When it was said in the appendices that Elrond receives Aragorn as a foster-son, I take that to mean exactly that.   
This takes place in Imladris and all dialogues may be assumed to have been spoken in Elvish.

* * *

**Kindled Flame   
part 1   
**_by Keithan _

* * *

The world had changed, evolved from countless years and generations that passed. Of these changes, besides from scrolls upon scrolls of history, tales were the main story teller, and songs the most prevalent records of the past.

But of the love of the Elfstone and the Greenleaf, no tale or song, or even scrolls of history, was told or sung. Maybe none would ever be made. But of the time when _hope _was yet young, unburdened still of the cares and troubles of the world, only this tale was told.

* * *

_They had not seen it coming, not the Lord of the House nor either of his twin sons, when they welcomed the young prince of Mirkwood to their dwelling. It was merely a visit, half a year at the least and a year at most. _

_Yet they had not anticipated it, neither the love of their youngest for the Elf Prince, nor the Elf Prince returning such love. _

_What started out as a visit evolved into something that would eventually aid in the shaping of the history of Middle-earth. _

* * *

Legolas stood, admiring the fine craftsmanship of his distant kin, the Noldor Elves. He was in Lord Elrond's study, awaiting the half Elf as the lordwas caught in the middle of something and was unable to greet him when he arrived. He gently touched the smooth surface of the table with his thumb caressing the carved edges. 

He had not been to Imladris for a long while and when opportunity came for him to visit, he took it gladly.

Faint footsteps were heard and Legolas prepared himself to greet the Elf lord, not noticing that if it was indeed the Elf lord, he would not have heard any footsteps at all.

The door to the study opened and the greeting on the Prince's lips died away when he was confronted with an elf other than the house's lord.

"Ada, I..." Staring at the blond stranger in his father's study, Estel stopped. He had just arrived from a trip with his brothers and he needed to inform Elrond of the news that cut their trip short as his brothers were needed elsewhere. Looking at the Elf, who was clearly not from Imladris, he said politely, "I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was here."

Legolas corrected himself. Now that he had time to actually observe the new comer, he realized that this was no Elf. This was a young mortal child, one of the _Edain_, Men. Mildly confused at the child's, an _adan's _presence, his fluent Elvish, and his reference to somebody as father (certainly not Lord Elrond?), in the Elf lord's study, he smiled hesitantly. "It's quite all right, young one. I'm here waiting for Lord Elrond. You may join me if you wish," he asked.

Scrunching up his nose at being called young, Estel entered the study.

They looked at each other with barely disguised curiosity.

Legolas observed the child with mild curiosity and interest. The child was garbed in traveling clothes, a bit dirty and no doubt had seen better days. He guessed that the mortal had just arrived like him. He estimated him to be no more than five and twenty to eight and twenty years old for an Elf child, roughly estimated, thirteen to fourteen mortal years.

"It was him I was seeking for as well," Estel said, tossing his short hair from his eyes.

The blond Elf had with him his weapons still and Estel had no doubt that the other had just arrived and was waiting for the acknowledgement of Lord Elrond. Curious it was to him, who was used to Elves in Imladris to see another from a different realm. He guessed that he came from Greenwood, or Mirkwood as it was now commonly called. Lórien Elves tend to don on more silvery blue colors than the dark green that their visitor now wore.

"Oh? And what need do you have of him?" Legolas asked kindly with great interest as he continued to observe the child. He had not much interaction with the Edain and to be faced with one so young in Imladris was not something he was expecting.

"My brothers left. I need to let him know I am already here," Estel answered and would have continued on but then he realized he was faced with a complete stranger, one who was still waiting for the acknowledgement of the lord of the house.

He suddenly felt that the responsibility of welcoming the guest would fall to him. His father and his brothers were absent. His young mind then thought that the burden of duty therefore rested on his shoulders. He could do it. He knew he could.

Legolas watched, intrigued, as the human frowned a moment before he straightened his back and held his head higher. The Mirkwood Elf got the feeling that the young adan was trying to act... _older _. The thought brought a smile to his lips.

"I am Estel," the mortal child then said, laying an open palm over his chest then bowing slightly.

Legolas nearly raised a brow at this in surprise and it heightened his curiosity more. This child was not only fluent in Elvish but he knew the ways and greetings of Elves, besides from the fact of having an Elven name.

"Lord Elrond's foster-son," Estel continued.

The Elf Prince merely blinked at the surprise revelation. The boy was Elrond's foster son and somehow, he felt he should know who he was. But then, that explained his questions regarding the human boy earlier and finally, he smiled understandingly, his confusion now cleared.

Returning the gesture, a palm on his chest, he bowed. "A pleasure, Estel. My name is Legolas and I hail from the kingdom of Greenwood in the east."

* * *

_And thus it was in that visit that Legolas Thranduilion had first laid eyes upon Estel of Imladris, foster son of Lord Elrond Halfelven and in doing so, had sealed the fate of two that would eventually have pivotal roles in the history of Arda. _

_Indeed, they had not seen it coming. Not even Estel or Legolas, themselves, had even thought about it, and never had it crossed their minds, not until it was too late. _

_Too late to step back and avoid it. _

* * *

The young child of nearly fourteen winters, vulnerable still yet quite mature if he wished to be, was then given a chance to know Legolas of Mirkwood. 

Watching from afar, as he had not the opportunity yet to be personally acquainted with him, his curiosity was piqued, his fascination grew and his respect developed each day.

Estel stopped in what he was doing, as he sighted the blond Elf with his father in the garden. They were speaking and it seemed they were talking about Imladris for Legolas nodded and looked admiringly at the beauty of the land.

The Elf was clothed in simple garments underneath the equally simple robe and yet he carried himself with dignity. And this caught Estel's attention. There was something different about the Elf.

"Estel, boy, stop gawking and hand me that bucket of water," Lord Erestor said from behind him, entering the stable doors.

The young boy groaned. "I was not gawking, Lord Erestor. I am merely fascinated with how different the Mirkwood Elf seems," Estel reasoned out as he delivered the wanted bucket. He looked out again to the gardens. "Look at him. Even in the simplest raiment he carries himself so well. Are all wood elves like this?"

"Like what?" Erestor asked, standing beside the boy, looking out as well to where Legolas and Lord Elrond were standing.

The pair was not so far off that Erestor could not hear them. Elrond was smiling as Legolas said something about the peace Imladris always brought him. The conversation then turned to discuss about a human boy that the prince had recently encountered in the Elven dwelling. The chief counselor of Elrond saw his lord smile lovingly as he spoke of his foster-son.

"Like.. like.." Estel said, however he was unable to find the words.

"Like royalty?" Erestor asked, hazarding a guess.

"Yes! Precisely! Like royalty! He's very different from the twins." Young Estel seemed excited that he finally found the most fitting adjective for the noble Mirkwood Elf.

Erestor laughed. "That's _precisely _because he is," he said, laughing more when Estel looked at him, mouth slightly open. "He's Prince Legolas of Greenwood, Estel. Son of Thranduil, _King _of Greenwood the Great, or Mirkwood as it has been called lately."

Estel blinked once and then he blinked twice. He looked back at Legolas and his father who were now walking away from them.

"One would think that with the history lessons you're being given and all the story telling, you'd know by now some familiar names," the Elf said, laughing, almost to himself as he walked back to see to his horse.

But Estel wasn't listening to him. He was now more intrigued and awed than ever.

* * *

_Even at his young age, with the innocence of youth still and the blessed ignorance of his true heritage, Estel was drawn to the royalty and dignity that the young Prince of Mirkwood exuded. For in him ran also a blood that was no less royal. If it was his blood recognizing its own royal lineage that made him acutely aware of the Elf's distinct nobility and royalty, he could not have known. _

_The wheels of fate had already started turning the moment they had first met in Lord Elrond's study and not even knowing what would happen could stop it. _

* * *

_**t b c . . .   
**_beta'd by: Dara 

**Author's Notes: **

Since ff.n doesn't allow char. like asterisks etc. to show, I used . . . to separate sections. To my previous readers, oh, do bear with me. :) I know this is different from what I usually come up with. Well, I'm young still, so it would be nice to explore the realm of writing and find my style. And, this is a first, I have a beta for this fic. Thank you, Dara! I'll be posting more or less regularly, but with no definite schedule.

Feedbacks would be great! I need to know how I am doing in this.


	2. Part 2

**Title:** Kindled Flame  
**Author:** Keithan  
**Disclaimers:** Lord of the Rings and its characters belongs to their respective owners.  
**Rating:** PG  
**Series:** 2/7  
**Warnings:** None other than implied love between same gender. _mild/implied slash _; legolas/(estel)aragorn; (estel)aragorn/legolas  
**Summary:** Having no tale to tell of its story would not mean that the light from the love of hope and its green leaves did not exist. But of the time when Hope was young, unburdened still of the cares and troubles of the world, only this tale was told.  
**Notes: **Aragorn and Legolas, a sort of backstory. When it was said in the appendices that Elrond receives Aragorn as a foster-son, I take that to mean exactly that.  
This takes place in Imladris and all dialogues may be assumed to have been spoken in Elvish.

* * *

**Kindled Flame****  
part 2 **

* * *

Young Estel fiddled with his bow restlessly, waiting for the Lord Glorfindel to arrive.

He knew he should be practicing but he was resting instead. He just had a tiring run from the river and went immediately to his scheduled archery lessons. He had thought of not attending it entirely, probably even go for a ride. But he had just done that the other day, he remembered with a smile. It didn't really please Glorfindel and his foster-father.

So there he was resting, waiting for the ancient Elf of... he frowned, remembering his history. _Ah, yes, _he thought to himself. He was waiting for the ancient Elf of _Gondolin_ while he rested since he was away almost the whole afternoon. He had been with his father and the house's herb master, helping in finding herbs for restocking the house's supply, both for healing and seasoning. This served to help him to be more aware and knowledgeable on herb lore, knowing what was for which and which was for what.

He looked back to the house for any sign of his instructor. They were supposed to meet some moments ago.

Estel shrugged and turned his attention back to t he bow. He didn't complain about his instructor's lateness. He knew the demands on the Elf lord were high. Being next to Lord Elrond, himself, he was sometimes too busy. In fact, it wasn't even Glorfindel that was his instructor. It was Elrohir. But the twin sons of Elrond had gone to Bree to attend to some business.

Often times, they brought Estel with them and together with the Dúnedain rangers, they scout the lands surrounding Imladris and from those travels came some of his most important practical lessons of the wild.

Right now, however, he was at home because he had been escorted back to the safety of Imladris, the same day that the Prince from Greenwood had arrived. When news of increasing orc activity somewhere near Bree was brought to them in one of their excursions outside the valley of their father, decision to take Estel back home was made instantly. While he was old enough to be allowed to go with his brothers in such trips he was not placed in direct way of danger.

Laughter drifted to his ears and Estel looked up to find two blond Elves walking towards him. It was not hard to recognize them for only a few in the valley had fair hair. Seeing Glorfindel and _Prince_ Legolas approach, he quickly stood up from where he sat on the foot of a tree to greet them.

"Good afternoon, my lords," said he, dipping his head slightly in a bow.

Glorfindel's eyebrow rose at this. The child was being extremely polite - not that he wasn't normally that way. He had his _moments_, few though they might be. Nay, he was being a bit... _formal_.

Legolas smiled. "Good afternoon, young Estel. It is good to see you. I believe we haven't had much time to get acquainted."

Estel flushed slightly. "It would be an honor, my Prince," he said, thinking if he should bow or not.

Legolas brow rose slightly at this.

Glorfindel smiled, understanding the odd behavior. While being raised in the House of Elrond, with all the Elf lords moving about, the young human never had an encounter with a royal, of which he only heard from tales and songs of old, High Kings and Princes of both Men and Elves. Besides, almost all the Elf lords treat him as the _child of the house_, such formality wasn't required.

He smiled to himself. _You do recognize your similarities as being both royalty, don't you, young king?_

Before Legolas could respond, Glofindel shook his head amusedly. "None of that, Estel. I'm sure _Legolas_, would appreciate it if you'd drop such formality. Isn't that right, young prince?"

Estel looked at Glorfindel in confusion as the Elf lord contradicted himself, but nonetheless he relaxed when he heard the prince laugh and then agreed.

"Indeed, Estel. Call me Legolas," the Elf prince said, then nodding to Glorfindel, he continued, "Don't mind him. He's always like that. Making rules in one second, then breaking them in the next."

Estel smiled, more at ease. He then remembered the bow that he was holding and turned to Glorfindel. "Shall we continue to my lessons then?" He asked eagerly, lifting his bow a bit. He felt pride to have an audience. He wasn't as good in archery as he was with sword fighting, but he was told he had the potential.

"Archery?" Legolas asked, turning smiling eyes to the other Elf.

Glorfindel laughed. "Yes, archery. Elrohir happens to be the tutor here but since he is away, I am teaching in his stead."

"Elrohir?!" Legolas exclaimed feigning horror. "By the Valar," turning to Estel he said, "Are you even learning anything at all?" He asked with great concern. His eyes, seemingly innocent, were twinkling in mirth.

"Hey!" Glorfindel slapped Legolas' arm lightly. "That's not fair. He's not even here to give you a retort!" he said laughing.

Legolas joined him. "It's not that I doubt his skills, but to teach? He never struck me as someone with great patience."

Glorfindel laughed more.

Estel felt left out. He looked at one blond Elf to the other.

"Estel, don't mind _him_. He prides himself as an archer," Glorfindel said, as if that explained everything.

Legolas stopped laughing, leaving a smile on his lips. "And that, I am," he said softly.

It was then that Estel saw in him, in that short moment, the Elf's passion for the bow. And with his tone of humble pride, beneath the softly uttered words, which he doubted not in the slightest, he knew instantly that it was not spoken idly.

He was suddenly embarrassed at having Legolas as an audience. The idea now seemed absurd. He would only manage to humiliate himself in front of a real and foreign archer.

Glorfindel merely smiled at Legolas' words. He had no right to contradict them for they were true. The young prince was an archer, in all aspects, and that was not only because he happened to be an Elf.

He watched as the young human bowed his head, suddenly shy. Glorfindel doubted not that the Estel thought himself extremely inferior to be faced with a foreign warrior. He then turned to Legolas finding him looking down at the young mortal, smiling.

The picture of the both of them struck him, bringing a smile to his lips.

Well then, he didn't have to teach after all. "Now, Legolas," he said. "Why don't you take over the instructions for today and let Estel see the shooting of a Wood-elf?"

Estel was about to protest, ready to save the Mirkwood prince from the trouble of teaching someone like him. Besides, he didn't want Legolas to see him so... unlearned still.

But the prince seemed to like the suggestion and Estel marveled at how he seemed to light up at the very thought.

Indeed. Archery was his passion. Estel concluded.

"That would be great, Glorfindel. I wouldn't mind," Legolas said, smiling brightly. It would give him something to do, and it was surely something that he liked doing. He was at home with a bow, that he couldn't deny and having a chance to share his talent, if not his love or passion for archery, was something he would take pride in doing, to be the teacher when he was once the student. To teach and instruct was a great responsibility and was one that he would be willing to take.

And to teach a human child! That would be an experience.

"That is, of course, if Estel would have me as his instructor," Legolas asked, turning to Estel.

Of course, there was no way Estel could have said no to such an honest offer to instruct him in the art of archery. He looked at Glorfindel, uncertain. Yet the Eldar just smiled encouragingly at him. Smiling now, he said, "That would be perfect... Legolas."

* * *

_The renowned Elf lord of Gondolin most likely didn't know that he had helped in making it a reality. He gave a slight push that started the turn of the circle and wheels of friendship between Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, and Estel, foster-son of Elrond, which would then start the turning of a whole new set of wheels that not one of them had even thought of. _

_That one day of instruction turned into a week. And even with the arrival of the twins, two months after, Estel had still wanted the young prince of Mirkwood to continue his teaching and not only in archery, much to Elrohir's mock disappointment._

* * *

"Honestly, brother, he does so much better than you!" Elladan said, laughing, making sure to dock whatever things his twin might suddenly decide to throw him. Fortunately for him, Elrohir remained still.

They were watching Estel and Legolas on the archery field, Elrohir sitting on the fence, with Elladan leaning on it beside him.

Legolas laughed and looked at them, obviously hearing the remark. "Oh, thank you, Elladan, for pointing that out to dear Elrohir," he said in jest.

Elrohir mock pouted.

And when Estel turned to them, blinking innocent big eyes, they all laughed.

Estel made face. "Legolas, I don't know what you're talking about, but is this okay? My arms are getting heavy."

Legolas smiled, turning back to his young student.

The twins were quiet, marveling at how instantly the mask of their friend had turned into that of the mask of an instructor. He adjusted Estel's elbow with his fingers, bringing it a bit higher. All the while, explaining to him every move and adjustment that he was doing and why he was doing it.

"Did he ever consider teaching novices?" Elrohir whispered to his twin, so as not to let Legolas hear. But even so, the Mirkwood prince could not have noticed him, preoccupied as he was with his student.

"I think he did. Knowing him, he wouldn't mind that in the least. However, he is a prince and a warrior. He belongs to the field where his skills and leadership are needed more," Elladan answered.

"Pity. He would have been a great instructor, great mentor even," Elrohir said, looking back to the archery field. The title of a mentor was given to someone who was usually appointed by the child's father as a teacher, someone to guide and follow. But that was not always the case for even though no title was given, any could serve and be looked up to as mentor.

"Aye, even in such young age."

There was a sharp twang as Estel loosed his arrow.

Four pairs of eyes followed the projectile. It landed on the second circle from the mark, yet it was a hair's width away from the first circle. Elrohir blinked, impressed. Estel only managed to hit the fourth circle with him.

"I think he would have a chance at being that to Estel, brother," Elladan said, eyes on the arrow still. "Unofficial though it may be."

They both turned to the pair on the archery field as Legolas said, "You dropped your elbow the last second so your shot landed higher. But you did fine, Estel. You're arms are tired and we've had much drills today."

Estel looked down. "Yea, but I've done better. I wish I could have done it now that my brothers are here."

The twins had identical eyebrows raised. That wasn't the best shot? He had just started the formal lessons of archery months before Legolas' arrival and it wasn't even on a daily schedule. It really took time to just learn to handle the bow and arrow, much more to learn to actually use it to take aim and shoot. Estel had drastically improved in the two months that they were abroad.

* * *

_And so it was that Estel and Legolas had developed their bond, a bond that never would be broken. Love sealed them both together. _

_Estel was Legolas' pupil and Legolas he considered his mentor and friend._

_And such bond would then pave the way into something more, yet it wasn't to happen any time soon._

_But then, they could not be faulted for it, for their innocent love was pure and their friendship true. _

* * *

_Months had turned into a year and Legolas of Mirkwood would soon have to depart. In ordinary circumstances, such departure and goodbye meant nothing but an opportunity for them to meet again in the future. And how far awaythat future wasfor Elves could be as long as a century._

_But this was no ordinary circumstance._

_Legolas had learned to love his young charge dearly, as much as he was loved and admired in return. He loathed to leave, especially when the said charge was near to tears at the time of goodbye._

_Of course, the fact that he was mortal didn't help any._

* * *

Elrond looked up at the prince, surprised. "Have you told Estel of this?"

Legolas sighed, looking away.

The Elf lord released his own sigh as well. He knew how Estel had developed a close friendship with the Mirkwood prince. To hear that he planned to leave soon made Elrond worry for his youngest.

In his growing years of fifteen winters, Estel had found friendship and understanding in Legolas when he needed someone out of his family. Elrond was grateful for that. He had seen the effect of Legolas and Estel's relationship onboth of them.

The young prince had not only filled the role of Estel's instructor in archery, but he also had a hand in training Estel in the other arts of war, and, sometimes and unconsciously, as well as in the way of life. Estel looked up to him indeed as a mentor and friend.

"No, you have not," Elrond said, answering his own question.

"I would hate to leave Estel, my Lord," Legolas said, not even noticing when Elrond looked at him curiously at this. "But the call of duty I can ignore no further. I must go back. I've been gone for a time now and have already extended my stay for a while."

Elrond stood from where he sat behind his table. "Very well. I shall send word to your father of your riding home."

"Thank you, Lord Elrond."

Elrond smiled, looking at Legolas as if he were his son. "None of that, young prince. It is I who should thank you." He walked towards Legolas and laid his hands on the other's shoulders. "You have done much for Estel, and so, you have done much to this family. The next time you ride under Imladris' trees again, you would ride not as a guest but as a brother to us."

* * *

_Elrond should have seen it then, even if Legolas himself saw it not. He should have sensed the shadow of what was to come, the shadow of something bright that would give light so pure to Arda. _

_Maybe Elrond had foreseen it somehow, but chose to ignore it, thinking it not possible. Both Elf lord and Elf prince had been blind and took the light of the latter's obvious love to Estel as nothing more than love for a pupil. And indeed, that was what it was. _

_Yet it had been the strong foundation for something more. And it was that that they had not anticipated._

_Sooner or later the young prince of Mirkwood would have to inform the foster-son of Elrond of his inevitable departure. He knew not what to expect. _

_Elladan and Elrohir had told him that he might change his mind, laughing as they did. They knew their younger brother could be good in the art of persuasion. _

_And that he was._

_Legolas nearly regretted his decision. Yet surprisingly, the young mortal understood the need to go, understood the call of duty and his need to fulfill them._

* * *

"I know you are a Prince, Legolas," Estel said resignedly. "I will not keep you from your duties."

Estel never failed to surprise Legolas. When the Elf thought that he had already known all that there was in knowing Estel, the young boy would still surprise him.

He supposed he shouldn't be that surprised if even at his carefree age of five and ten years, Estel already had a good grasp of duty and responsibility. He was raised in the House of Elrond, after all.

He just smiled, pride washing through him at the words of his young charge although there was an inexplicable feeling of sadness at the corner of his heart.

"When will you come back?" Estel asked, catching the Elf off guard.

The prince hadn't really thought about that. Not the concept of returning, but the idea of _when_ exactly. "I..." he started, thinking for a moment. "I don't know exactly, but I will return," he said finally.

Estel, in the middle of his teenage years, and faced with his first real separation, was handling it quite well.

Yet, for a brief moment, the boy looked up to Legolas with such sadness that left the Elf confused. Surely, his leaving wouldn't cause Estel such distress? But it was only for a moment, and Legolas wondered if he had indeed seen it.

"You will forget me?" Estel asked, unsure, looking younger than he really was.

At this, Legolas' face broke into a gentle smile. "Of course not, Estel. Never. I will keep you here," he said, raising a fist to his heart. "Always."

Estel smiled. "As you are here," he said, mimicking the movement.

* * *

_And thus it was that time had come for Legolas to leave Imladris after more than a year of visit. _

_He returned to Mirkwood leaving the mentor in Elrond's house and slipping back into being a prince once more._

_The memory of the young human child was always in his heart._

* * *

**_t b c . . .  
_**beta'd by: Dara

**Author's Notes: **

This is a repost. Full notes on the story will be uploaded together with the last chapter. For now, continue on chapter 3 or drop me a review to tell me what you think.) -19 November 04


	3. Part 3

**Title:** Kindled Flame   
**Author:** Keithan   
**Disclaimers:** Lord of the Rings and its characters belongs to their respective owners.   
**Rating:** PG   
**Series:** 3/7   
**Warnings:** None other than implied love between same gender. _mild/implied slash _; legolas/(estel)aragorn; (estel)aragorn/legolas   
**Summary:** Having no tale to tell of its story would not mean that the light from the love of hope and its green leaves did not exist. But of the time when Hope was young, unburdened still of the cares and troubles of the world, only this tale was told.   
**Notes: **Aragorn and Legolas, a sort of backstory. When it was said in the appendices that Elrond receives Aragorn as a foster-son, I take that to mean exactly that.   
This takes place in Imladris and all dialogues may be assumed to have been spoken in Elvish.

* * *

**Kindled Flame****   
part 3**

* * *

_Young Estel, on the other hand, found it hard at first to adjust to his life without the fair prince. _

_He no longer would be able to burst into Legolas' room early in the morning even as the Prince was still getting ready for the day. Once, he did, only a day after the Elf's departure, only to find it glaringly empty and it had hit him hard that his mentor and friend was no longer with him. After more than a year of getting used to his presence, instruction and friendship, Estel then had none other like him._

* * *

Estel stared at the empty room, at the made bed and the cleared closet. 

He stood, unable to move for what seemed like the longest time.

Legolas was no longer in Imladris. By this time, he was well on his way back to his homeland.

He suddenly felt alone. He felt as though a hole was carved out of him with the prince's leaving. Feeling the heavy weight of solitude, he sighed heavily, closed the door to Legolas' chambers and headed to the one place or rather to one _person_ whom he knew he could find peace, anytime.

He knocked on the door hesitantly, wondering if the occupant of the room was already awake. It was still a quarter before sunrise, a time in which he had usually spent having an early morning ride with Legolas and sometimes the twins.

The door opened, and the woman, for she was no Elf, standing in the doorway smiled upon seeing him. Moving aside, she let Estel walked in, instantly feeling his downcast mood.

"What brings you here so early, young one?" The woman asked gently as she walked over to the bed, where Estel had seated himself.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, mother. I..." Estel said, feeling suddenly stupid for disturbing his mother so early with no real reason. Then seemingly losing his ages to be a child once more, he continued softly. "I just needed someone to talk to."

As his mother, Gilraen knew exactly what was wrong. Even before his son had spoken up, she knew what it was that bothered him. Smiling, she said, tone soft and gentle, "But Prince Legolas isn't here right now, is he?"

Estel looked away. Knowing how his mother knew him so well, denying it would be useless.

"Aye, mother. He is not here."

Gilraen never did speak much when her son would come to her as thus, burdened or troubled. She let him speak instead. "Lords Elladan and Elrohir are here, my son," she simply said. Her words were carefully planned to get him to open up more.

"They are different, nana. They are my brothers. Legolas is different. He understands me without me saying anything and is always there," he said, then frowned. His family was capable of that as well, so he found his reasoning flawed. "No, I'm not saying the Els, or even ada, do not understand me, they do, sometimes they don't, but mostly they do.. but... it's different with him. Just different."

Afraid he wasn't making much sense, he turned to his mother, "Do you understand what I'm saying, nana? Because I'm not sure if I do."

Gilraen allowed herself to laugh softly. The sound effectively brought a smile to Estel's lips. She sat beside him on the bed and opened her arms to the young boy.

With no hesitations, Estel crawled into the cocoon of his mother's arms, feeling the weight in his troubled mind and heart lift.

Although already at the age of fifteen, still quite young for someone in which the Númenorean blood runs strong, Estel's youth and the child in him would always be present in Imladris, surrounded as he was with thousand year old Elves. And always would it show in front of his mother.

"He's different, nana," He whispered. "He's different."

"Hush now, little one. I know," she said, placing a kiss on the crown of his head, her eyes distant and thoughtful. "I know."

* * *

_If she had known the extent of which the Elf Prince was different, no one knew for certain. But Gilraen was a woman foresighted, for she, daughter of Dírhael and wife to Arathorn, descended from long lines of Númenoreans, Men of the West. And upon them, gifts were bestowed by the Valar, longer life span not the least of them. Because of that and with the heart of a mother, it was possible that she could have sensed in her son what it was that fate had for both him and Legolas. _

_If she indeed had known, she spoke to no one of such knowledge, but sometimes, her eyes shone with understanding and wisdom, and even sadness, that confused even her own son. _

* * *

_So it was that the months passed, the leaves had fallen in autumn, a blanket of white covered the outside land in winter, and flowers again bloomed in spring. _

_Although the passage of time was nothing to the Elves, it was more than enough for a mortal, especially one at the peak of his growth, to mature._

_Estel, nearing his seven and ten years of existence, had been widely traveled in the lands of the north. He had done great deeds for one so young in the company of the sons of Elrond and was adept in the use of the blade and, although not his first choice of weapon, the bow as well._

* * *

Estel's hand found his bow as he was arranging his things so that he could rest for the night. He was out camping, with his twin brothers, and it was not yet his turn to take watch. 

Elladan and Elrohir were sitting across their small camp from Estel. The older twin elbowed the younger before nodding to their human brother. The fire was between them and Estel, but they could clearly see that their foster-brother had stilled his movements and was looking contemplatively at the bow in the ground. Each knowing what it was in Estel's mind, they exchanged meaningful looks.

The human, still deep in thought, lifted the weapon, almost reverently, to his lap, his eyes not once leaving it. He ran his hands through the surface of the wood, feeling the smoothness and sometimes the carved inscriptions and designs in it.

He remembered how Legolas treated his bow as though it was a vital part of himself, an extension of his arm. At many times, he tried to feel that connection, not only with the bow but with his blade as well. He tried to use his mind and heart, and not merely his body, to wield the weapon, as Legolas had told him.

It came as no surprise that he remembered the Mirkwood prince every time he handled his bow. Some memory came more fleetingly than the others, while some lingered more.

Elrohir cleared his throat, twice, finally getting their younger brother's attention.

Estel looked at them, and when he saw their knowing yet questioning looks, he flushed slightly. He silently thanked the fire and the darkness of the night for it would fully hide his embarrassment from his brothers.

"I was just... remembering," Estel said by way of explanation, gaze dropping to the bow he held.

Smiling understandingly and knowingly, the twins nodded. "We know."

They were silent for a while. The Elves left their mortal brother to his thoughts as they watched when Estel returned to inspecting the bow.

But Estel wasn't seeing the bow as it was in that time. He was seeing it as it was presented to him by Legolas.

Legolas said that the bow was a weapon that was not meant to kill and end life but to save and preserve life, as all other weapons should be. He had taken that lesson to heart, using his weapons to protect any that was in his power to protect, more mindful of the fact that with every release of an arrow, a life could be saved, rather than the other way around.

Elrohir watched his younger brother's face, and a thought occurred to him, bringing a smile to his lips. Not long after, a soft laugh escaped his lips and he finally gave in and laughed suddenly, catching both of his companions' attention. "You miss him," he said teasingly.

There was no need to specify who _him_ was.

"Of course I do," Estel immediately answered, not thinking and not even noticing his brother's playful tone, effectively falling for Elrohir's bait. But when he looked up at Elrohir, he saw the mischievous gleam in his eyes, which was then reflected in Elladan's, who, by then, caught up on what his twin brother was trying to imply.

He narrowed his eyes warningly, guessing what it was in his brothers' minds.

Elladan and Elrohir burst out laughing. Not a second later, a blanket was hurled at their faces, effectively muffling their laughter.

Estel snorted.

"Fools."

* * *

_The twin sons of the Lord Elrond could not have known the truth behind their teasing neither could Estel have known himself. For blinded they were still of the possibilities and the slow changing and maturing of feelings and emotions, of constant thoughts and memories that unconsciously surfaced in innocent and unsuspecting minds. _

_Elladan and Elrohir Halfelven only knew of what _was_ and seldom do they think of _what could be._ For what _was, _was a friendship so true, _what could be, _however, was a realm of thousand possibilities. And what reason did they have to dwell on such things and think that the friendship of their friend and brother could suddenly take an unexpected turn? _

* * *

_On the eastern side of the Imladris, Mirkwood had been quiet for the time that its prince had returned from his last travel. Dol Guldur had given the Silvan Elves and their Sindarin royals no trouble for the past year. Ever since it had been thrown down by the attack of the White Council almost seven years ago, Mirkwood had been in a watchful and guarded peace._

_And because of this, its prince had been meaning to ask leave from his king and father, for he perceived that he would not be urgently needed for a time._

* * *

"Father? May I have a word with you?" Legolas asked as he was allowed entrance in his father's study. 

Thranduil looked up from the documents he was perusing. "Is something wrong, Legolas?" he asked, frowning, setting aside the papers in his desk.

"No, no. There's nothing wrong, father," Legolas smiled reassuringly. "It's just that..." he trailed off, having doubts if he chose the right time.

Thranduil smiled at Legolas then. "What is it my son?" he asked again, knowing that Legolas would feel more comfortable if formality was fully set aside as it should, since Legolas made it clear that it was no matter of the kingdom.

Legolas sighed. "Well, I've been wanting to ask your permission, ada," Legolas said, smiling hesitantly.

"Permission for what?"

"That I may travel abroad for a short while."

Thranduil raised a brow at this. Legolas merely smiled wider, expecting such from his father. "You just visited Imladris more than a year ago. You want to travel so soon again?"

Legolas shrugged, heading to sit at one of the chair in front of his father's desk. "Well, yes. Actually, I do plan to visit it again."

Thranduil seemed surprised.

Of course, for Elves, years were but fleeting moments, they were insignificant and were but little time. So to hear that his son wanted to visit a place he just visited again, was like a human wanting to visit a place he had just returned home from a month or even weeks ago. One year was but an instant.

Looking at his son, Thranduil saw that he was determined to get a _yes_ out of him. He sighed, smiling. "I can see you would only accept a yes as an answer."

The younger Elf now smiled openly. "You know me well, ada."

"First, tell me why I could afford to say yes."

Legolas looked around. Finding a long roll of parchment at the end of his father's desk, he stood up and reached for it. Carefully setting aside the documents on the desk, he unrolled the it to reveal the map of Mirkwood.

Thranduil tried to hide his amusement as he looked at Legolas who stood in front of his desk, both palms flat on the surface, face looking solemn, and eyes glued on the map. He looked every bit of the captain, leader and prince that he was. At other times, Thranduil would have been proud at such aura of authority, but at the moment, he couldn't help but see the troublesome-elfling-turned-respectable-prince that was his son.

"If you would look here, my lord," Legolas started, his demeanor changing to a formal one. He indicated the western border of Mirkwood. "We need not fear any assault on these borders and if, in any case, there are…" And he launched into a detailed explanation of the stability of the safety of Mirkwood for a time and the state of the kingdom if ever attacks would be made.

Thranduil listened intently, pushing the thoughts of father and son to the back of his mind, and bringing up the king and captain, as he realized that Legolas was not doing this to convince him but to report to him the status of the kingdom. He occasionally asked questions and they were answered more than enough for him.

Legolas focused on one border at a time, then to the contingent of soldiers assigned and the captain leading each of them. His hand was waving over the map as he pointed in specific areas and locations that were concerned. He stated the strengths of each defense, acknowledged its weaknesses, if there were any, and brought up suggestions to remedy such weaknesses. He even discussed the possibility of an offense if it would be needed.

When he finished, Thranduil almost forgot the reason for the untimely report until Legolas said, "There you go, father. So unless there would be a sudden unforeseen incident, you could afford to say yes."

Thranduil laughed. He could not explain how his son could easily slip roles in just a few moments. He just shook his head. "You would give me a reason first, young one. If I know you half as well as I should, I'd say you've already packed. And I wouldn't want to wait for your return to learn of such eagerness to leave once more."

The King of Mirkwood only shook his head, sighing, and wasn't surprised when his son laughed one of his dignified and held-back laughter and said, "As I said, you know me well, ada, almost too well."

* * *

_So it came to passing that the Prince of Mirkwood left only upon the condition that he would immediately return when summoned. But he left with a light heart, knowing he would soon be heading to Imladris. And with this, his heart sang for he missed the young child that he had grown fond of and learned to love._

_At this point, he, too, was still blissfully ignorant of what was about to happen, of the changes,_ if any,_ that was slowly taking place. He was unaware of the turn and drastic change that would occur in Imladris on his coming visit._

_And by that time, all things concealed under the thick mantle of ignorance would soon be revealed in knowledge's light._

* * *

_As had been said before, they had not seen it coming, not the Lord of the House, nor either of his twin sons, when they welcomed the Prince of Mirkwood in their dwelling for a second time in less than half a decade._

_But the wheels of fate had already started turning a little more than two years ago when they first met._

_And there was no stopping it._

* * *

The Sindarin Elf halted his steed before the steps of the House of Elrond. Dismounting his horse in one fluid motion, he smiled at Erestor, who greeted him, and another Elf who came to lead his horse to the stables to be cared for. He then turned his admiring eyes to the glory of Rivendell. 

"Forever would I be in awe each time I behold your fair valley, my lord," said he while adjusting his quiver on his back. "It takes my breath away."

"Ah, as the sight of you does."

Legolas' head whipped immediately towards the voice. "El!" He greeted before running up the stairs two at a time to Elrond's son and enveloping him in a hug. Not knowing who exactly the twin was, and not wanting to take the time to determine it as he usually could, Legolas settled for the safe first syllable.

The dark haired elf laughed as he patted the seemingly enthusiastic prince on the back. "Elrohir would be the right name," he chuckled. "I would say it has been a while, as is the usual greeting after such warm embrace," Elrohir said, laughing as he parted from Legolas. Looking at the prince and holding him an arm's length away, he continued, "But I could not, since it has _not_ been a while. It's only been a year or so at the least."

Erestor laughed as he joined them. "I'm afraid someone is seeing time the mortal way."

Legolas laughed. "You can not fault me for it. Your Imladris is a sight always welcome to me and I would see it as often as I could." Somehow, he could not really say that one major reason was because Estel was mortal and Legolas would see him as much as he could in the adan's days of youth where his innocence and unburdened heart werestill a commanding presence in him. He knew that they were something that he wouldn't be able to see often once Estel was fully exposed to the world.

_He would be around seventeen to eighteen winters now,_ Legolas surmised. _Nearly a fully grown man._ He was saddened to think that this charge – _young friend_, he reminded himself for he was no longer his pupil any more – had already changed much in the span of time he had been gone.

"That it is, and I'm proud to call this my home," Elrohir said, bringing Legolas out of his reverie.

"Now, time would be given later for idle talks. Elrohir, escort the Prince to his chambers that he may rest. I'll have your packs brought to your rooms." Erestor said the last to Legolas before taking his leave.

"So now that I am your gracious host, I will now lead you to your chambers," The younger twin said smiling, taking Legolas by the arm.

"But am I not to meet first with the lord of the house?" Legolas asked. Of course it was only proper for him, a guest, to greet the lord first since Elrond was absent upon his arrival.

"No. You need not," Elrohir said, smiling, slinging an arm carelessly around Legolas' shoulders. "We could forgo with the formalities with you. You would greet him when you have already rested. He has already been informed of your arrival and he ordered thus. "

Legolas smiled in return. He had been meaning to ask the Noldo Elf of where Estel was but he simply could not say the words directly, not wanting to sound too impolite by being impatient. Instead he asked, "I'm surprised, Elrohir, that you are not with Elladan. Where is he? Where are those brothers of yours?"

Elrohir laughed. He looked at Legolas saying, "Surely you don't expect us to be together every second of our immortal lives!" he guided the prince to another corridor that led outside. "Unlike me, they were not informed of your arrival. I, myself, was only informed just this morning."

Legolas frowned. "Did your father not get my letter?"

"Oh, I just learned he did. He just purposely neglected to tell us of it," he said, laughing. "Probably thought it would be a pleasant surprise."

Legolas shook his head, smiling at Elrond's _thoughtfulness_.

"So come now," Elrohir said as he pulled Legolas to another turn. "You'll meet them. I left Estel and Elladan busy. I do hope they are still both alive."

Legolas' heart beat faster, not really understanding what Elrohir had said. He would soon meet Estel again, this time, not anymore the fourteen or fifteen year old boy he had first laid eyes on, but a seventeen-year-old young adult. He wondered briefly if he had improved in the bow, and especially the sword, since he was a very promising swordsman. Then in a moment of self-doubt, he wondered if the human would even remember him.

"Come, tell me. How has Estel been?" Legolas finally asked.

Smiling to himself, Elrohir shrugged. "I was waiting for you to ask that. That student of yours seems to have grown well, but a bit too mischievous for his own good," he paused, smile fading somewhat. "He had grown too much in fact. Like a sapling growing into a tree in just a few weeks' time. I keep forgetting how it is for Men. Time goes faster for them," he said, face growing downcast as his voice lowered into a softer tone.

_Ai, Estel is of the race of the Edain, _Legolas thought. Elves spend years and years caring for babes and children, not having them grow so fast. To suddenly be reminded that Estel was unlike them brought him the same melancholy feeling that Elrohir was probably feeling.

Elrond's son shook his head, smiling again almost instantly. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. But as I was saying, young Estel has not forgotten what you have taught him during your last stay here, though I cannot fathom why he always forgets what _I_, his own brother, tell him!" Elrohir laughed at this. He held Legolas' elbow and directed him to turn in a corner. "Although, with all the skills that he possesses that you helped to hone, I couldn't imagine why he mostly got your stubbornness and hard-headedness."

Legolas couldn't help but laugh. "Well those _skills_ would greatly be of help to him someday, I'm telling you," he said, noticing they were going out into the practice field, if he remembered correctly.

Estel and Elladan were crossing blades when Legolas arrived. Neither was winning, and it seemed to be an even match, but Elladan still had the upper hand. The young human still had much to learn.

Estel parried a blow from Elladan. Twisting his body side wards, he brought his sword quickly in an arc, bringing it supposedly behind Elladan's exposed neck. But he was surprised when it met with the metal of Elladan's sword. And the fight picked up pace once again, Estel going on the defensive.

"Give up, Estel!" Elladan shouted, trying to dislodge his brother's sword.

"Never in your life, Elladan!" Estel answered, bringing his sword to meet Elladan's strike and trying to avoid any slip of his hand.

The Elf laughed. "That is a long time, young one!"

So caught up were they that neither noticed the time they acquired an audience as Elrohir led Legolas out in the practice field, both keeping to the far side as the two continued obliviously.

The fight continued on, metal against metal as every blow and strike was countered hurriedly, if not efficiently.

"My, twin brother! Is Estel defeating you now?" Elrohir called out.

Elladan chanced a brief glance and was taken completely by surprise upon seeing the Mirkwood prince there.

In such fight, even less than a second of inattention was more than enough. Estel had quickly taken advantage upon seeing Elladan's surprise, not yet concerned of its cause. Penetrating the Elf's defenses, he swung his sword only to stop it mere inches from Elladan's neck.

The dark-haired Elf blinked, surprised, then exclaimed, "Hey!"

"You were distracted, brother." Estel smiled. "I took advantage."

"Why, you..."

Of course, Estel was fully expecting his name – or some insulting version of his name – after such statement from Elladan. He was completely taken aback, however, to suddenly hear another's, a foreign but not an unfamiliar one.

"…Legolas! You caused me my defeat!" Elladan shouted to the Mirkwood prince, standing beside his twin, before making his way to meet them.

Estel froze, sword still in mid-air where Elladan was supposed to be. _Legolas?__ He is here?_ Estel was now clearly aware of his heart pounding in his chest because of the sword routine with his brother, or if it was because of his sudden nervousness, he couldn't really say. _It can't be._

When the distinct melodious laugh reached his ears, all doubts dissolved in his mind.

"I did nothing of the sort, Elladan! You merely need more practice, I should say," came the laughing reply.

Bringing his sword down, Estel slowly turned to greet the new comers, not knowing what to expect.

Turning around, his eyes instantly met Legolas'.

They stood for a moment not saying anything; the voices of the twins were far from their minds.

Estel had a hard time believing it and the surprise was clearly written on his face. Nevertheless, he managed not to sound surprised when he spoke. "Legolas," he said. The softly spoken name served as the only greeting that he uttered, nodding once in acknowledgement.

Legolas inclined his head slightly in response and said in his calm, soft tone, "Estel."

* * *

_And so it happened the moment their eyes met, things had changed, probably even long before. _

_Estel was no longer the boy, the pupil, the child that Legolas had tasked himself to protect and teach. And Legolas was no longer the mentor, the teacher, the instructor that Estel had been looking up to._

* * *

**_t b c . . .   
_**beta'd by: Dara 

**Author's Notes:**

If you noticed, haha, yes, I gave up in giving a chapter title, since this was written as one whole fic (supposedly a one-shot even) and not as chaptered parts, I found it hard to give an appropriate title for each, so I left it at that. I'm really sorry for the inconvenience and the long wait. But, here, I've posted the next part as well. Go on ahead, and proceed to the next chapter. Feedbacks would be most welcome. Thank you!


	4. Part 4

**Title:** Kindled Flame   
**Author:** Keithan   
**Disclaimers:** Lord of the Rings and its characters belongs to their respective owners.   
**Rating:** PG   
**Series:** 4/7   
**Warnings:** None other than implied love between same gender. _mild/implied slash _; legolas/(estel)aragorn; (estel)aragorn/legolas   
**Summary:** Having no tale to tell of its story would not mean that the light from the love of hope and its green leaves did not exist. But of the time when Hope was young, unburdened still of the cares and troubles of the world, only this tale was told.   
**Notes: **Aragorn and Legolas, a sort of backstory. When it was said in the appendices that Elrond receives Aragorn as a foster-son, I take that to mean exactly that.   
This takes place in Imladris and all dialogues may be assumed to have been spoken in Elvish.

* * *

**Kindled Flame****   
part 4 **

* * *

_Perhaps if Estel had greeted Legolas differently, had smiled and embraced the prince upon meeting him as if no time had passed, things would have been different. The changes would have been delayed. _

_But it was not so. The feeling of something different was already there. The change was inevitable. _

* * *

Elladan frowned, feeling the uncomfortable tension between Legolas and his youngest brother. He briefly wondered about it, for Legolas and Estel were inseparable before. Estel looked up to the Mirkwood prince like a hero, a role model of sorts; and Legolas was only too glad to act as a teacher and friend to him. 

"Come now, Legolas, redeem me!" Elladan said smiling, hoping to ease the building tension that Legolas and Estel's gaze at each other was causing.

He effectively brought both pair of eyes to him. "You caused me my defeat, the least you could do is defeat him for my honor!" He said smiling, handing Legolas his sword.

Legolas hesitated. He was no fool. He felt the strain between him and Estel and he was not sure if he would wish any encounter with the mortal as of the moment. At least not until such apprehension and anxiety between them was gone. It was as if Estel was wary of him. The human's gaze seemed searching and calculating, as if he was measuring Legolas up.

"What now? The teacher now afraid of the pupil? Oh Valar!" Elrohir said, looking so stricken; only the gleam in his eyes gave him away.

The Sindarin prince smiled. _Nothing is wrong, _he said to himself. _Everything is as it should be. _It would do no harm to cross blades with him in a friendly spar.

"I can see he has the mastery of the blade though I would dare say there is always room for improvement," he said in a tone that much resembled someone with greater experience, which was who he was.

He ignored the sword being handed to him by Elladan. Instead, he reached up to his quiver that was still strapped at his back and unsheathed his two white knives, twirling them in the process. He smiled, clearly accepting the challenge.

"I wouldn't need that," he said, nodding towards the sword.

Estel had been silent the whole time, yet he looked in awe at the skillful way Legolas drew out his blades with such precision and ease, which he gathered had come from centuries of use. But then, he just stared at the twin blades, no less deadly he knew, but still, they were shorter than a sword. Even though he admired the way Legolas handled the long knives, he doubted its effectiveness in battle against a sword. Every time his brothers used their own long knives or daggers against enemies, he was locked in his own battle to notice. Besides, orcs are pretty easy to kill. "Knives?" he asked skeptically to no one.

"I would wager you haven't used any of the like on him?" Legolas asked the twins, hearing the doubt in the adan's voice.

The two looked at each other. "Well, no, not really," Elrohir said. "We haven't thought about it."

"Since we are practicing his swordsmanship, our practices are all swords that he may see the movements that could be done with it other than his own," Elladan continued.

Estel was beginning to mind the way the others were conversing as if he weren't there at all and was about to voice that out.

"Well then, let's practice his fighting, not only his sword. It is time to take his learning to a higher level," Legolas said, finally looking at Estel. A brow rose in challenge and eyes clearly carrying a dare, a look he so often gave Estel before. He knew the boy wouldn't back out on any challenge. He used it often when the mortal doubted himself in his abilities. It always worked.

In that moment, everything seemed normal again. There were no uneasy tensions between them. Legolas smiled challengingly, whereas Estel, brow also raised, remained skeptical of the seemingly disadvantageous weapon, yet a smile was also in his lips. It was a challenge accepted.

Both Elf and Man almost breathed a sigh of relief.

"Have you no consideration, my sons?"

All four of them looked up to the sound of the voice.

Elrond was standing in the balcony that overlooked the practice fields. Estel's mother, Gilraen,joined him a moment later, clearly looking amused.

The verbal reprimand was softened by the smile on his face. "The Prince Legolas had just come from a long journey from Mirkwood. Would you give him no rest first?"

Before any of Elrond's sons could answer, Legolas bowed, his right hand immediately transferring the knife it held to the other before coming to rest on his chest. "Lady Gilraen," he bowed first to Gilraen before turning and bowing to Elrond and moving his hand outwards in a sweeping motion. "Lord Elrond."

"Well met, son of Thranduil," Elrond said, greeting him in the same way. "Please, mind not the discourtesy of my sons and find rest here in Imladris from your long journey yonder in the east." Again, his tone was soft and his face was smiling.

"But ada, he was in this too," Elrohir said. He received a not so soft nudge in his ribs from Legolas.

"Thank you, lord, I will." Legolas said smiling, ignoring Elrohir's complains.

Elrond nodded, inwardly smiling at the young Elves. Then looking pointedly at his sons, he said, "I will meet you again tonight, Legolas, hopefully, _after _you have rested. Then perhaps you could give me tidings from your realm."

"Of course, my lord. My father sends you his greetings," Legolas answered.

"I am glad he is well then," the Elf lord said. "I hope to see you tonight, Legolas. We shall speak more later," Elrond said, nodding once. He gave each of his sons a pointed look before turning back inside.

Legolas then met the eyes of Gilraen, who lingered for a while. Her eyes were trained on him, seemingly searching, reading and…

_actually seeing. _

Her eyes pierced him. Wisdom and experience shone through their depths and he could not help but feel young even though he was the one with hundreds of years behind him. Her look was not unkind – it was a look of understanding even – yet he felt as though she could read his mind and heart. Her gaze briefly flickered to his right. He turned halfway to see what it was, or _who _it was that she looked at, but she turned back to him again and smiled softly, nodding to him respectfully before following Elrond inside.

Legolas, frowning in confusion, stared at her retreating back, stared up at the balcony even after she had gone inside. He looked back over his right shoulder and saw Estel looking up to where his mother was standing.

Estel dropped his eyes to meet his gaze. But Legolas already turned back to the balcony once more, mind deep in thought.

* * *

_So it was that at that afternoon, the Prince of Mirkwood arrived in Imladris and in doing so, he was faced with the clear difference of his friendship with Estel. _

_It was Elladan who first noticed the unease in which the two close friends had greeted each other after more than a year of separation. Yet when it dissipated just as quickly as it had come, he pushed it in the back of his mind. _

_Yet the two now looked at each other through different eyes. And for the first time, they felt it, felt the difference in their friendship. They knew not what difference it was. They knew only the tension and uneasiness that lay between them. _

_It was happening. It was too late. _Too late to step back and avoid it.

_But as others said, ignorance was bliss – and denial, the easiest escape. They might not know it, but they opted for the two, ignorance and denial. _

_Trying to return back to the routine that had been set, when Estel was young and Legolas was still just a mentor, was the first steps they took to deny and avoid what could possibly happen. _

* * *

Estel hesitated, his hand poised to knock. He had done this a hundred times before, what difference was there that he couldn't do it now? 

_You're being a fool _, he thought. _Just knock. The way you always do. _Throwing caution and doubts aside, he finally did.

"A moment." Legolas' voice said from the inside. After a while, Estel was granted entrance.

Legolas looked up and saw the young adan. He just stood there momentarily, surprised to find the human so early in his room. He had arrived in Imladris two days ago and although it had been a practice of the younger Estel to just knock and enter (sometimes even forgetting the knocking part) early in the morning, he didn't know the almost eighteen-year-old young adult had picked up the habit since he had already spent two mornings undisturbed.

"Good morning..." Estel hesitated, especially now the Mirkwood prince stood there as if he wasn't expecting him. More than a year ago, Legolas always knew he would come. "...Legolas," he finished.

Legolas blinked, then after regaining enough sense, he smiled. "Come Estel, have a seat," he said, indicating a large, and obviously cozy, chair. "I'm guessing you have come to pick me up?" he asked, smiling.

Estel relaxed a bit. "I guess you could say that," he said, shrugging.

The Elf laughed lightly. "What do you have in mind this morning? Perhaps you could tell me what you have been up to for the past year? We have not much opportunity to talk yet. Wait a while," he said, turning to the pack he left open. "I just have to arrange some things then we'll go."

Estel smiled, relieved. There was still some uneasiness between them but it was slowly lessening. The past two days had been a bit uncomfortable. He didn't know what was expected of him. Was he expected to act like the child student that he was? Did Legolas even see him beyond that, as a friend and not just a student?

Their friendship now was only a little more than uneasy silences and tensions, awkward glances and uncomfortable company. He was beginning to think that their friendship didn't even exist in the first place and what they had before was dwindling away into mere acquaintance, now that he had grown. It took a lot of debating on his part before he finally decided to knock on the prince's door this morning.

He did not regret it, he thought, as routine brought back some semblance of normalcy.

"I could do that," Estel answered, remembering their conversation. "The twins have placed me in danger so many times it nearly made father's hair white," he said chuckling, earning a soft laugh and a whispered _I can just imagine_ from Legolas in response. "I was thinking of an early morning ride, as what we usually do," he then said, another unconscious attempt to go back to their relationship before. For what they had before was something they both knew and treasured well, at least, for his part, he did.

Legolas, who had his back to Estel, noticed this, but gave no comment, at least he agreed with Estel in that, even though the human did it unconsciously. To tread known grounds was much safer than to venture the unknown path that their relationship now was heading into, not unless they stir it back to what it was.

And that was what both were doing.

He felt the change between them, even feared that he returned too late and Estel had already grown up much to remember whatever friendship they had. The young adan had seemingly avoided him. They couldn't even look at each other in the eye without having one look away. He had thought that he had returned for naught, but seeing the young mortal on his door earlier had cleared his doubts.

Estel was at least making the effort. The adan wanted to have their friendship back and that was enough for him to know that his return had not been in vain.

"But since the twins find their beds a better company, they wouldn't be joining us," Estel continued, bringing Legolas out of his thoughts. "Or we could just carry on with what we left unfinished when you arrived and have an early sparring match as an exercise. So what would you have us do?"

Legolas had finished arranging his pack in one corner. He straightened up and looked at the young adan, thinking. "I rather fancy the sparring match. I could use the practice. What say you?"

Estel smiled. "Excellent."

He looked at Legolas as the Elf seemingly debated if he would bring his own weapons, which he finally decided to do. He waited as the prince retrieved his two white knives from the quiver, which was placed, together with the Mirkwood bow, neatly on a table.

"Come. Show me what you have learned in my absence," Legolas said and there was no mistaking the challenge in his words.

Estel shook his head, smiling. "Elves," he muttered. They then headed to the practice field.

Moments later, they were standing some feet away from each other in the same field they were in the other day. Estel was with his sword facing Legolas who was with his long knives, both poised and ready for the match to begin.

"Let's see what you've learned," Legolas said smiling slightly, internally preparing his mind and body for the fight. He knew, from what he had seen between Elladan and Estel, that this was not going to be a mere sword-play lesson.

"I learned much from you," Estel replied, raising his sword in front of him in a signal that he was ready.

And then it began.

In a blur of movements, Legolas immediately took on the offensive as he had most often done before in practicing Estel in the art of the sword.

Estel effectively blocked each blow. But as the fight continued, the human slowly realized that he clearly was the inferior fighter. At that moment, he experienced fighting Legolas as he had never experienced before. He knew, without a doubt, that the Elf prince was even holding back.

He constantly found himself backing away, nearly unable to keep up with the other's attack. Sweat started to form in his brow; his hands threatened to shake with the pressure; and his footwork began to fail with little missteps. The twin blades seemed to blend into one and divide into many at the same time, creating a much wider range of attack on him. He had no doubt that, if placed on the defensive, the Sindarin Elf would have defenses that would be near impossible to penetrate. The sound of metal against metal rang throughout the practice area, and yet, the only thing he heard was his own breathing and the pounding of his heart.

They locked eyes for the first time and Estel saw again the usual calmness and impassivity of his mentor in Legolas' eyes. Letting out a cry, he anchored his ankle and twisted his sword to deflect one of the knives so that he might be able to move forward instead of back. Desire swept through him to break that calm impassivity in the Elf's facade. He held his sword tightly, and more securely, and determination caused the crease in his forehead. He then took the offensive, something that he seldom did before.

* * *

_And the first break in the routine that they had nearly established again that morning was done. Unknowingly, Estel, himself, had broken out from the regularities between them and had ventured into new grounds. _

_And this did not help in their efforts to return to _normalcy.

_It did not help at all. _

* * *

Legolas didn't let the surprise at the sudden shift affect him and he easily slipped into the defensive. He noticed the sudden change in the mortal, and found it disturbing at first. He was used to the young boy, who was learning the sword and had talent with it, not someone who was near to mastering it. To be faced with a young adult, which was undoubtedly more skilled and was physically more powerful than the boy he knew, was something Legolas didn't expect. 

There was a loud clank of metal then silence.

Both combatants froze momentarily.

Estel was starting to breathe more heavily. His sword, gripped tightly in both hands, was in a diagonal in front of him, connected to Legolas' knives on either sides of the blade, one knife higher than the other.

Legolas still wasn't feeling the effects of the physical exertion as Estel did, but he felt his blood running faster as the rush of the fight spurred him on.

They looked at each other for a moment through their interlocked blades, a brief respite from the fight.

And almost at the same time, both realized that they looked at each other then as equals. There were no lines of superiority drawn between them, no title of student and instructor, pupil or mentor.

Estel's face smoothened in, what could be seen as, wonder and disbelief at such realization.

Legolas brows furrowed – the only indication that he found the thought rather disconcerting – a second before their blades danced again.

_He no longer is a child, _Legolas thought as he felt the need to be in control. A year ago, he always found himself in perfect control. With Estel being young, he had not the cause to lose control of things and situations.

Yet now as equals...

Estel let out a surprised gasp as the Elf almost disappeared in front of him. He regained his senses in time to raise his sword to his side where Legolas had apparently moved to, so fast that he was unable to register such movement when it happened.

* * *

_And thus Legolas took on the offensive once again, if only to feel in control, of himself and of the situation. _

_Yet he was far from being in control. _

_Things would go as fate would have it and it would go no other way. _

_The youngest son of Lord Elrond, his foster-son, had come to the conclusion that the prince was using his first choice of weapon in close range fighting. If he thought before that Legolas was good with a sword, he was unbeatable with his twin knives. He was able to confirm such fact when he found himself backed up against a tree, in the edge of the practice field. _

* * *

Estel gulped slowly as he found himself cornered, pinned by Legolas against the rough bark of a tree, the two blades of the Sindarin Elf crossed dangerously close to his neck and his sword just way out of reach. 

He was breathing heavily at this time as the fight had been longer than what he was used to in practicing and had been more demanding of his efforts, physically and mentally. His heart was pounding heavily on his ears; he was sure the Elf could almost hear it.

Legolas seemed unaffected except for the deep breathing he was doing and his slightly flushed face that was evident on his pale complexion. His eyes looked through Estel without seeing him. They still carried the distant look, a hint of a dangerous gleam that it usually had when fighting.

Estel lifted his eyes from the blades crossed at his neck to its wielder, whose face were mere inches from his own, their breaths mingling in the cold morning air.

Legolas blinked, as if just coming out of a trance and met Estel's gaze. He didn't know if it was the rush of energy or just the intensity of the human's eyes, or just because he was standing close that all he could see was the sea-gray orbs, but it was as if the world faded and anything beyond Estel's eyes blurred and became a swirl of colors.

And that moment robbed them of words. It was one of those rare times when the eyes, indeed, become windows, and when they look at another, they simply understood; they just simply _knew_.

Legolas and Estel, however, knew and yet did not. They understood, and yet were confused.

_No longer a boy. _

_No longer an instructor. _

_Not a pupil. _

_Not the mentor. _

_What were they now? _

_If not the pupil, then who? _

_If not a mentor, then what? _

"Legolas…" The name came out of Estel's lips unconsciously and it seemed to them a distant whisper in their minds.

They stayed unmoving, their minds frozen in time just as their bodies were.

In their locked gazes, both realized that they had indeed changed. They could not go back to their mentor-pupil relationship or, rather, they had already passed that stage.

In some distant part of his mind, Legolas was reminded of what Erestor had said. _Mortal years fly by so quickly, _he thought, almost sadly.

The sounds of nature reached his ears and he blinked, breaking eye contact. It was as if the wind blew softly as a reminder that words needed to be spoken, and their confusion needed to be understood. Then, as if just realizing their proximity, Legolas pulled back, almost too hastily.

_And the tension between them increased tenfold. _

"Estel. I…" Legolas didn't even know what he was about to say. He searched Estel's eyes and found not the child looking at him in curious fascination. Instead, he found a young man, looking at him confusedly, seemingly… _hurt? _

He looked away, not understanding why everything wasn't as simple as they should be. "I…"

Before he even knew it, Estel raised his fingers to Legolas' lips. "Why do you look at me with such sadness in your eyes?" he asked softly.

Legolas looked back up. He didn't know if it was better for them to let words be spoken; it seemed much easier if they were to remain unuttered. He reached up and held Estel's hand to gently move them away from his lips. "Why do you look at me with such confusion?" he asked in turn, looking straight into Estel's eyes and seeing the momentary surprise in them.

Estel looked at his hand which Legolas carefully held. He then tilted his head to the side, looking back up to the Elf's eyes. After a moment, he said, "You tell me," then paused for a while before saying, "Because it probably is the same confusion that I see in your own eyes, Legolas."

At this, and the sound of his name, Legolas quickly released Estel's hand, his face slipping into a mask of distant calm, and turned away. He was determined to walk back to the house, but he found himself held in place.

_How do they pick up the threads of an old life? _

Legolas turned his head to the human. He dropped his eyes unconsciously to the hand holding his wrist – briefly contemplating the soft contrast of his too pale complexion to Estel's slightly darker one – before bringing them up again to meet Estel's gaze.

_How do they go on... _

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out that way," Estel said.

Legolas smiled.

Estel frowned, recognizing the mask for what it was.

"By the way, that was a good match, _mellon nin _," Legolas said. "You have greatly improved."

_...when in their hearts, they begin to understand... _

And Estel instantly knew that Legolas was trying to go back to the routine, to the normalcy that they had set years ago when they first met and he was just around fourteen years.

But right now, he wasn't sure if he was willing to go back anymore. He looked down at his hand holding the prince's wrist, then looked up again.

"Why are you doing this?" Estel asked, tightening his hold a bit.

Legolas frowned before raising an eyebrow. "Doing what exactly?"

"I…" Estel started, but he didn't know what to say. He didn't even understand what he asked. He released his hold on the Elf and shook his head sadly. "Nothing. Forget it."

Estel lost a verbal exchange when it hadn't even started yet. Legolas was aware of this, and yet, he couldn't smile on his victory. And even though he was free from Estel's hold, he couldn't turn away, not just yet.

He looked at Estel, who was looking down, thoughts running through his mind with no definite direction.

Next thing he knew, he had his fingers under Estel's chin, a gesture that was strangely intimate, and he guided the mortal's face up to look at him, studying his stormy gray eyes.

"Never doubt my friendship, Estel," he said after a moment, letting his hand fall to his side.

Looking back, Legolas thought that if any were listening in on their conversation, they would have been confused at the jumble of words and phrases that he and the human had exchanged. But somehow, strangely enough, for him, it made perfect sense.

Estel sighed, before nodding. "Nor mine as well," he just replied.

_…that there is no going back. _

* * *

_What was between them was no longer the love of a mentor and a pupil. _

_They both had tried to slip back to their routine, both tried desperately to hold on to what had been, still unprepared and afraid to face the inevitable change. _

But how do the pick up the threads of an old life? How do they go on, when in their hearts, they begin to understand… that there is no going back?

* * *

_**t b c . . . **_

Lines from the 3rd movie: (used above with different pronouns) I do not claim any credit for them.

_How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand, that there is no going back?   
__-Frodo _

**Author's Notes: **

Nice to have the longer chapters back, I hope? Feedbacks would be much welcome! Thank you for those who have read and those who have reviewed. I'm sorry for making you wait. But do not worry, because I intend to finish this. I would not have started posting this unless I know I will finish it.

Thank you again!


	5. Part 5

**Title:** Kindled Flame  
**Author:** Keithan  
**Disclaimers:** Lord of the Rings and its characters belongs to their respective owners.  
**Rating:** PG  
**Series:** 4/7  
**Warnings:** None other than implied love between same gender. _mild/implied slash _; legolas/(estel)aragorn; (estel)aragorn/legolas  
**Summary:** Having no tale to tell of its story would not mean that the light from the love of hope and its green leaves did not exist. But of the time when Hope was young, unburdened still of the cares and troubles of the world, only this tale was told.  
**Notes: **Aragorn and Legolas, a sort of backstory. When it was said in the appendices that Elrond receives Aragorn as a foster-son, I take that to mean exactly that.  
This takes place in Imladris and all dialogues may be assumed to have been spoken in Elvish.

* * *

**Kindled Flame****  
part 5 **

* * *

Gilraen stood silently watching the scenes before her unfold.

The sun had already risen and the house was starting to bustle with activity.

But from her point of view, time was frozen, seemingly preserved within a glass box and never to be touched again.

Legolas and her son stood on the field below her, unmoved with the passage of moments even as the wind blew the leaves on their feet and the sun continued its gradual rise. Their words reached not her ears, but their actions spoke as loudly as the echoes of battle horns in mountain passes.

She was standing on one of the open corridors on the second floor of the house and she had stood there long enough to have witnessed the dangerous yet strangely beautiful sword dance that her son and the Prince of Mirkwood had just been engaged in. She was in awe for never before had she seen two blades move as one and handled with such grace that it seemed as if Legolas was wielding soft silk and not daggers. She had never seen such skill and grace as that of the Mirkwood prince as he fought.

Yet with all her awe and admiration of their otherwise deadly dance, she felt that such match was indeed a dance that seemed to hold its own symbolic meaning in both their lives.

And she knew she was right the moment the fight ended and time stood still.

Her solemn gaze then followed the blond Elf, who was then walking back to the house, blades clutched in one hand. Turning her eyes back to her son, she found him looking at the retreating back of the Mirkwood Prince.

As if feeling her knowing eyes on him, Estel turned and saw her watching. Realizing that she had been there for quite some time, he looked away guiltily, as if he was caught doing something that he shouldn't be doing. He walked towards his sword, which was dislodged from his hand, and picked it up before making his way back to the house to prepare for the morning meal.

Time once again flowed its natural course and she knew that what little moment time had frozen a while ago would forever be enclosed within the glass box of her son's and the prince's memory. She sighed sadly. _And thus your road to suffering starts early, my child, _ she thought.

Bells began ringing and it signaled that the hall was ready for dining.

She stayed for sometime, looking out at the peaceful scenery of Imladris, until she felt a quiet presence behind her.

Without turning to look, she spoke. "Estel, my lord, is already a young tree growing still to be strong and to stand tallest of all. Under your tutelage and the guidance of those under your house, I would have no doubt of what he can do. You gave him much skill and wisdom and give him more still, and under the guiding hand of Prince Legolas, I doubt not the strength of his spirit and the fire of his heart," she said, not turning around, but her voice betrayed her emotions.

"You have foreseen it." It was Elrond that stood behind her. His face was a mask of perfect calm as he spoke cryptically.

"I have seen it," Gilraen replied. Turning to look at him, she continued, "As you have seen it."

"I've been blind," he simply answered. His gaze was directed to the practice field, where he had seen Estel earlier standing alone. He had seen the look on his face, and it was more than enough for him to know his thoughts.

The lady shook her head. "Do not blame thyself. Even they have not seen it coming."

"And even now they do not see it, at least not yet. I, however, should have seen it long before this. I have taken him as my own..." Gilraen laid a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Perhaps it was in Ilúvatar's design that you saw it not, or for any to see it not for that matter, for their part in the Great Music to continue (1). This was meant to happen, as I now understand it, and it would not have come to pass as thus if many were aware of it."

"Indeed, it would not," Elrond said, looking towards the sky. He grew silent for a moment before he spoke again. "The sun shines again on this day and hope is growing in my heart. Yet for Estel and the young prince, Legolas, I know not what hope I could give."

Gilraen smiled sadly. "I see in their eyes the purity of a love just kindled to become a raging fire, and it brings hope to me, for it is hope to Arda."

Looking at her, Elrond said, "You think it as thus? Love… and hope?"

"Aye, for what else could it be? Such pure an emotion can be nothing else and such innocent and true a love can be no other than light in the dark days that would come," she said. A soft sigh then escaped her lips. "Alas, it is not willed for me to see the end of my son's road, and thus, only this beginning of a bright flame will I see."

"Speak not of such things. Estel is here still and young yet, and he is our hope, and because of such I name him thus. He has yet a long way to go."

"And _he _ is his hope. Yet his road in that path would not be easy."

"That is what I fear, lady." He looked then at Gilraen and his look pierced through her. "For it is not a path that he is destined to finish."

Gilraen immediately looked away, not really wanting to speak of such things. "And what path is he destined to finish, my lord?" she asked, almost bitterly. Even now, she knew the suffering her son would go through.

"I know not. It is a path that is hidden from me."

She sighed. "I know that well for what they have or could have had cannot be," she said sadly. "Grief I have for this, for their love or what it could be is true and pure."

She looked at Elrond then and saw the understanding and sympathizing look in his eyes. "It was never meant to be," she whispered almost to herself. "But the flame has been kindled and its flare will continue to blaze blindingly unto the ends of the world."

Elrond looked at her, seeing her firm belief. _Nay, _he thought. _It is not merely a belief that fuels her words, _the Elf lord realized in a sudden thought. _It is a prophecy. _

She smiled softly.

"I take comfort with the knowledge that their friendship and loyalty, even their love, would last to the end of his days, that much I have seen, no, I have known," she said to him.

"I know as much as well. But the future is shadowed before me. I know not where they are headed," Elrond said.

At this, Gilraen remained silent and grim was her face.

She spoke after a while. "You should have seen them, my lord," she said, directing her gaze on the open field below her. "They are confused still, but one could not mistake their feelings for each other. But they are still hesitant and blind on the matter."

"They would long be blind on the intensity and depth of their friendship and the love that binds them both. I doubt they'd acknowledge it as love. For them, what binds them together is a nameless emotion that reaches out to both their hearts. To name it is not important," Elrond said.

"Such innocence," Gilraen murmured to herself.

Bells began ringing for a second time and the Elf lord deemed it proper to finish the conversation for the morning meal was soon going to start. He offered his arm to the lady. "I feel the tension in my house. A strain that is palpable to me since the arrival of Mirkwood's prince."

Gilraen nodded and smiled, her shoulders barely shaking in a soft chuckle as she remembered every time her son would suddenly lack words in the company of the prince, and the small cracks, barely noticeable, in Legolas' composure when around Estel. It was almost comical how thick the tension was when the two were in the same room. "It can't be helped."

And together, Elrond and Gilraen walked to the dining hall to break their fast.

* * *

_And so it was then revealed that Gilraen indeed had seen it coming and witnessed it even with her own eyes that morning. _

_She had known that Estel, her son, had loved Legolas Thranduilion and that the young prince returned such love, which was more than what it seemed, even when both knew it not. She knew as well the bitterness of such path that their love would take and she grieved for them. _

_Like Gilraen, Elrond Peredhil was gifted with the ability to gain knowledge of things that might or might not come to pass. Yet with all his knowledge and wisdom, a shadow lay in his thought for the future of his youngest and he could see it not, but he knew enough of the love that bloomed in his house to also know the suffering to which it might lead. Yes, a shadow had indeed laid in his thought for the future of his youngest, what he didn't notice was such shadow was shared by the future of both his youngest, Elf and mortal. _

_It was the first and last conversation that the Lady Gilraen and Lord Elrond, mother and foster-father to Estel of Imladris respectively, had of this matter. _

_But it was far from being a matter closed. _

_And so the inevitable change took place and the turn of their relationship had started to occur. The wheels of fate were at its fastest cycle, turning and spinning its web around them. _

* * *

More than a week had passed since Legolas had arrived in Imladris. All had been well, normal even, and nothing seemed changed. As it was an Elven dwelling, that was not a surprise.

Elven though it might be, a human dwelled there as well. As for change... _ah well _, Legolas could always look away and ignore it for the time being.

He chuckled softly at this thought as he made light of the situation between himself and the said human. Tension lay between them still, but they had more or less learned to ignore it and adapt. He, for his part, gave it not much thought, afraid of where it might lead him.

The three sons of Elrond looked at him in puzzlement, three almost identical brows raised.

"And what, pray tell, is in the mind of our Mirkwood prince?" Elladan asked.

Legolas merely laughed softly. His eyes twinkled in mirth. He looked at them, unconsciously meeting Estel's eyes. His laughter fell short for a moment but he was smiling still.

Unknown to them, Elladan and Elrohir shared a look.

"Nothing important really," Legolas said dismissively, now looking at the dancing fire as he hummed to the merry tune of the song being sung.

The evening meal was just finished and most Elves of the house gathered in the Hall of Fire where songs were sung, tales were told and merrymaking was at its best. The three young Elves and the human were seated on the carpeted floor in one corner surrounded by cushions and looking content and comfortable.

Elrohir shook his head. "Sindar," he muttered. He then stood up and grabbed Legolas by the arm, pulling the prince from where he sat on the floor. "Come now, let's dance the night away!"

Laughing merrily, Legolas obliged as the two made their way to the center of the hall, which was empty of any dancing Elves, encouraging others to do the same. The song picked up a different tune, livelier and more appropriate for dance. Not a moment later, the hall was filled with dancing and laughing Elves.

Estel looked at their retreating forms, surprised. Then a slight frown was on his face as he watched Elrohir and Legolas dance around.

Elladan noticed this.

"You care for him, brother," The elder twin said softly to his brother seated beside him.

Estel looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"

Elladan turned to look at him, seeing the younger one's confusion. "What I mean was, that you _care _ for him," he said, nodding his head to the direction of his twin and Legolas.

Estel sighed. "I long to be his friend, Elladan," he said, looking at Legolas.

"And that you are. Worry not, Estel. He holds you dear in his heart as well." At this Elladan smiled, almost relieved.

"Yes, I am his friend, but I do not feel it. My heart feels as though I never am enough, to be his friend I mean. That there is much more that I could give, yet have no way of giving it." Estel looked at his brother then. "Surely you have seen it, Dan. You spend many days with us; you see how different we are now."

The Elf's smile faltered. Yes, he had seen it. The confused glances, the awkward but sometimes comfortable silences, and moments that just made him realize that his brother and friend shared more than friendship and they, themselves, had not seen or realized it yet. That or they just simply chose to ignore the matter and let it remain nameless and unspoken.

"You look at him and see him not as the mentor that bade goodbye to you after more than a year of tutelage and guidance," he said quietly.

Estel looked away.

"What would you have me do, Elladan?" he asked. "Remain the pupil when in my heart he no longer is the instructor of archery I had when we first met?"

"Yes," Elladan hastily replied, then, upon realizing what he said, he shook his head. "I mean, be his friend Estel as he is a friend to you. Do not try so hard, little brother, for friendship is not something that is forced."

"But I feel as though a wall stands between us. We couldn't even look upon each other for a time without one of us looking away," he said, as he turned his eyes back on the dancing Elves.

Elrohir and Legolas were laughing, hands clapping in rhythm and steps in beat.

Elladan was silent.

Alas! They had not seen it coming. Estel already loved Legolas. That much was clear to him and to his twin. They had spoken about it, discussed the strain in the relationship between their human brother and the Elf prince. Others might not notice it, but for them, some moments of meaningful silence between the two was enough.

And their eyes told much.

How could they not have seen it? How could they miss the light in their human brother's eyes and joyful enthusiasm more than a year ago when Legolas was present? And the tender affection that Legolas bestowed on his young charge? How could they have been too blind?

But he was being unfair. What his brother and friend had before was merely friendship, an inseparable friendship that was akin to that of a much older brother to his younger sibling. What they had been blind to was the possibility of it happening; and now looking back, it was the most possible way that their relationship would take. Probably, if Legolas had stayed and was able watch the adan grow, their friendship would remain as that, mere friendship and brotherhood.

The thought brought to him a certain sense of foreboding that he could not explain. Because of this, he approached the matter with care, or tried to at least.

"A wall there will only be if you allow it. Remove the cares from your mind, Estel, and you will see that no wall is between you two," Elladan didn't know if he was encouraging his brother. He merely wanted to know of Estel's feelings and thoughts, and now that he was certain, he feared for them both.

Unlike his younger mortal brother, he knew of the Man's heritage, knew of the path he was destined to take as Isildur's heir. He was one of those who rescued Estel, then an infant, and his mother Gilraen five and ten years ago. Even if he knew it not, he felt it in his heart that Estel would experience much suffering inevitably brought on by such love, and for that he grieved to even think it. He wanted to protect him.

As for Legolas, he feared for his spirit. He feared that it might succumb to grief once grief would take hold of his heart in the course of such love. He feared for his friend greatly.

"I feel for him. Some unnamed fire in my heart that longs to reach out and melt away any that lies between my heart and his."

Elladan felt his heart tighten to hear this. He glanced at his brother. This was probably the closest thing to a confession and admission of Estel's love. The young mortal was unsure still and probably hadn't thought of categorizing what they had to _that kind _ of love.

"What hinders you?" Elladan asked calmly.

"It is as though I'm betraying his tutelage, as if I'm crossing bounds that I was not supposed to cross. I'm confused brother. I know not how I see him," Estel said, bringing his knees up and resting his elbows on them.

"How else would you see him other than the true friend and guide that he is?" Elladan instantly answered, almost defensively, unable to hold himself back in time.

He realized what he had said and immediately regretted them. He couldn't spare his brother of heart ache in this way. In fact, he realized, it seemed to him that he couldn't spare Estel at all. He was about to apologize but he stopped when he saw his human brother's countenance.

Estel's face hardened in a frown. "I don't know, brother. I just told you I don't know how I see him," he said.

His tone made Elladan realized just how much his simple comment had hurt. "Estel, I didn't mean to… I'm…"

"But thank you, Elladan," Estel said, cutting him off. He made move to stand. "Thank you for making me realize and reminding me that I must look at him as a friend and nothing more." Standing up, he walked away, slipping out mostly unnoticed.

The soft call on Elladan's lips landed on deaf ears. He looked back, helpless, to the dancing Elves and sighed. It was then that he noticed that Legolas was looking at him, eyes no longer twinkling in mirth and smile gone.

Elladan turned his eyes away, unable to face him at the moment, but he could still feel the burning gaze, the questioning stare of the Legolas on him.

He gave no further notice, and he stood up to leave the hall.

* * *

_And so all things were revealed to those who had eyes to see. _

_Indeed, they had not seen it coming, but when it already had come, few were blind to it. Fear and grief arose in the hearts of those who care, of those who knew of just who exactly Estel of Imladris was for there was a sense of foreboding in their hearts telling them that something else was planned other than such love. _

_So the immediate response was protection for them both, for although their love had already bloomed, their flame already kindled, it was yet young and both were still ignorant and in denial still. _

_But it was only a matter of time. _

_The fate of Estel, foster-son of Elrond and Legolas son of Thranduil had long been sealed. _

* * *

Legolas stood in the balcony of his room, quiet and unmoving. He had retired to his room early from the Hall of Fire, troubled as he was upon seeing a distressed Estel hurriedly leave.

Not even when the door opened, after some soft and unanswered knocks, did he turn.

"Legolas, my friend, you seem burdened. Are you well? You grow quiet each day you spend here in Imladris. Do you not find peace here?"

Legolas knew it was one of the twins. He was yet to know which and did not trouble himself to find out; he had a strong feeling it wouldn't be Elladan, though. "Nay, that is not the case. Do not take any of my misgivings as a wrong to this beautiful valley. Nay, do not."

"Then what is it?" Elrond's son asked. Legolas then turned his head to him, meeting his gaze evenly as if saying, _do not ask me questions that you already know the answers to. _

The dark-haired Elf sighed, giving up the pretense, and Legolas looked away.

"I should never have come here."

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He then shook his head and smiled at the twin. "I'm sorry. It seemed the dancing took all my mirth away, leaving me in the clutches of melancholia."

Before the other could say anything, there was a knock on the door soon followed by the entrance of another of Elrond's son.

"Elladan, where have you been? I've been looking for you," the twin on Legolas' side asked.

Legolas, now sure of who was which, turned to give Elladan, the new comer, a meaningful and questioning glance.

Elladan ignored the question of his brother, and instead walked to stand before the Mirkwood Elf. "I'm sorry," he simply said.

Elrohir looked confusedly between the two.

Legolas sighed. "What did you say to him?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I fear for him. I wanted to protect him from pain and loss. In haste, I said some things that upset him."

The Sindarin prince studied Elladan closely, who was avoiding his glance. He took a step back, suddenly wary and unbelieving as realization came to him. "You wanted to protect him from me," he whispered. "From _me _."

"No!" Elladan head snapped up to look at Legolas. "No, that was not my intent!"

"You do not trust me?" Legolas continued, shaking his head, disbelief in his face, at the twin sons of Elrond. He then turned his back and leaned on his hands on the balcony rails.

At this point, Elrohir somehow picked up the conversation and shook his head vehemently. "No, my friend, you must understand."

"What must I understand?" Legolas asked. "Clearly, from your actions, Elladan, you would not want any of this happening. Do you think I have any choice on the matter? I am as helpless in this as your brother," he said as his voice lost its volume. "The flame is barely lit and kindled and it is already being stomped out."

"So you have not been blind," Elrohir softly stated to himself as he was assured then that Legolas was at least aware of what was happening.

Legolas looked at him. "Of course I have not been blind. But I choose to be. The past week I have lived in questions and confusion and when I find the answer lingering in the back of my mind I push it away. Do you not know how hard it is for me? And how is it for him who is yet too young? I am confused. I don't know where I stand. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to feel, what _I_ feel." The words trailed off and there was silence for a moment. None of them knew what to say.

"What do you think is happening between you and Estel, Legolas?" Elladan asked softly. "What do you think lies between?"

The Elf prince sighed. "I know not," he answered. "And I'm not exactly sure if I'd want to know."

"He is a mortal, my friend."

Legolas eyes darkened momentarily and pain flashed through them as he looked at both of Elrond's sons evenly.

"For all the things I have to be reminded of, that is not one of them," he said, his voice hard. "Do you not think that I am aware of it? That he would die when I would continue on living? That I would have to watch him wither away as age and time would take from him his strength and beauty leaving only a shadow of what he is now? I am very much aware of that fact, Elrohir. You need not slap it on my face."

Elrohir took no offense but instead, he berated himself for being so tactless. He laid a comforting hand to the prince's arm.

Legolas sighed. His frustration and helplessness were fueling the fire in his words. He took some moments to compose himself. "I'm sorry," he said, finally.

Both Noldor waved the apology as unnecessary.

"Perhaps it is yet too early to speak of this," Elladan offered.

Legolas only nodded, looking at the soft lights of Imladris during the night from the balcony of his room.

"Then rest your troubled mind...and heart," Elrohir continued, unsure.

The prince nodded again, this time turning to the twins. "I'll think of it no more. You are right. It is yet too early for this, " he said, almost determinedly. "Let fate take its course. I have no power to defy that which is already planned. Forget this conversation, my friends. Be not burdened with it any longer."

"Get your rest, Legolas," Elladan said. "Worry not anymore. The sun would shine and bring a new day."

_A new _ hope.

* * *

_And so indeed, a new day it brought, and brought others more still as it continued to rise every morning in the east. Yet it changed not the feelings that seemed to even continue to blossom in the hearts of Estel of Imladris and Legolas of Mirkwood. But no more was said of the matter. _

* * *

_**t b c . . . **_

**Notes: **

(1) Silmarillion-based where it is written that Ilúvatar, also known as Eru, the One, made the Ainur who sang before him and they sang in harmony together to create the Great Music, it is something like… uhm, I think I'd be confusing those who haven't read Silmarillion. I'm sorry, I don't know how to explain it without getting into a full account of the Tolkien's creation story. Let's just compare it to something like a web of fate, ok?

**Author's Notes: **

I just want to inform you that I will not be abandoning this story any time soon no matter how much time it takes me to update. Needless to say, things have been busy on my side of RL. I'm sorry. Also, forgive me for any typos and/or mistakes committed in this chapter. Thank you for your patience and all your encouragement. They are very well appreciated. Drop me some reviews, even if just to say you are disappointed at such a long time of not updating, that I may at least know how you feel. 

Thank you all. 


	6. Part 6

**a/n: **after struggling with the formatting and spacing and QuickEdit 2.01 (tm?).. aherm, here's the actual post. There was no one more _devastated _than I when my OS crashed and I had to have my hard drive formatted, hence losing _practically everything _I have written and I have been working on. Only two fics were saved, and I thought this fic, and its original ending would forever be lost, and I have to settle for a rewrite. But by some valar-sent luck, I found a backup, an unedited rough draft, of these last two chapters. Thank god. So here it is... er, no, not the unedited rough draft. I worked through it already, and will be reading through it again.

* * *

**Title:** Kindled Flame   
**Author:** Keithan   
**Disclaimers:** Lord of the Rings and its characters belongs to their respective owners.   
**Rating:** PG   
**Series:** 6/7   
**Warnings:** None other than implied love between same gender. _mild/implied slash _; legolas/(estel)aragorn; (estel)aragorn/legolas   
**Summary:** Having no tale to tell of its story would not mean that the light from the love of hope and its green leaves did not exist. But of the time when Hope was young, unburdened still of the cares and troubles of the world, only this tale was told.   
**Notes: **Aragorn and Legolas, a sort of backstory. When it was said in the appendices that Elrond receives Aragorn as a foster-son, I take that to mean exactly that.   
This takes place in Imladris and all dialogues may be assumed to have been spoken in Elvish.

* * *

**Kindled Flame****   
part 6**

* * *

_Legolas indeed had thought no more of it. Estel seemed to do the same. Yet it did not stop their love from growing. They continued on their friendship, now even closer still, having a more intimate link that bound them both. The tension was there, the strain on their relationship ever present, but as days passed, acceptance was inevitable. And with such wordless acceptance, the tension drained away like water through a flowing stream._

* * *

Legolas halted.

There was something wrong.

In his crouched position, he listened intently to the whispers of the forest around him. The wind blew slightly causing the trees to rustle and sway its branches.

_Danger._

He was just outside the borders of Imladris, a little past the Fords of Bruinen, and was currently fulfilling a challenge.

He and Elrond's three sons were out camping and they were on their second day. They had agreed to a hunting contest for their evening meal. The afternoon sun was already sinking yonder in the west and so far, half an hour had passed and one of them was yet to give the signal of triumph.

Deer were not in abundance in their part of the forest. It was too mountainous for them to tread and most preferred the safer grounds of the valley. Legolas had only started to hunt a possible quarry when unease settled in his heart.

Something was terribly amiss, at least to his instincts. He could sense no evil, but he could sense some danger. He was wary and alert. Only weeks ago, they had come upon their hunted band of orcs, finding it merged with another, creating a much larger force to deal with than what only three Elves and one human could handle safely. It was a good thing the Dúnedain rangers heard their call for aid. He wished not to repeat such carelessness on their part.

He laid his palm to the ground, trying to strengthen his link with nature.

The trees were whispering, unintelligible and incoherent messages he was yet to pick up. "Pedo na nin," Legolas urged. "Speak to your child."

The leaves rustled, urgently, demandingly.

_Danger._

He frowned and after a moment, he hastily stood up, alarm and fear on his features. One whispered word escaped his lips, before he broke into a fast sprint. _Estel._

* * *

A lone deer raised its head, looking around. Feeling something out of place, it surveyed its surroundings. When everything _seemed_ normal, and after making sure it was safe, it ducked its head back to the grass and began nibbling again.

Estel had been quiet and undetectable. He had his whole attention to his quarry and was intent on not letting it go. He shall win this round of challenge. Slowly and silently, not making any noise or disturbance in the environment, he fitted an arrow to his hunting bow and sighted in on his target for a quick kill, not wishing to cause it unnecessary pain.

_"Give them the mercy and respect they deserve," _was what he remembered being told.

_"But why do we kill them in the first place?" _he had asked then, blinking his innocent gray eyes to the Elf beside him.

Legolas had only looked down on him, smiling softly._ "It is in nature's way, that some die in order for most to live."_

He smiled. _"Ada had said something similar. But I reckon that we were not talking about deer and other preys."_

And he clearly remembered when, not losing his smile, although it had turned solemn, Legolas had said, _"I wasn't either."_

_Indeed,_ Estel thought, as the seemingly distant memory of Legolas surfaced in his mind. And to the deer, he thought, _I'm sorry._

Yet the deer heard not his apology and continued undisturbed.

_Quiet, quiet,_ he reminded himself as he slowly drew the bow.

He was so intent on his prey that he had narrowed his concentration to his prey alone, unconsciously and foolishly neglecting his surroundings.

He didn't notice the danger that approached him, but what he did notice was how the ears of his prey stood suddenly alert as its head immediately rose. It was his only warning.

"Estel!"

In a span of mere moments, the same moments it took for him to whirl around to turn to the call of his name, arrows were released in rapid succession. He barely registered their singing in flight and the distinct twang! twang! twang! of a bow. He hadn't even finished turning around, when he felt himself forcefully pushed to the ground, feeling a rush of air above him. His eyes widened as they briefly caught sight of a flying… – boar? – above him before the world turned black as air was knocked out from him.

Estel's vision was darkened for a moment as the impact of his fall dulled his senses.

When consciousness and awareness returned to him after a few moments, the first thing he was aware of was the protective embrace he was enclosed in and that he wasn't on the ground. He was lying on something, or someone for that matter.

"Legolas?" he asked tentatively, looking down at the being beneath him.

The Elf prince hissed in pain before gritting his teeth. "You fool!"

Estel winced at the anger in the tone. The words stung. He didn't yet understand what happened and to hear Legolas address him in such a way frightened him.

Legolas released Estel from his hold, feeling pain in his shoulder and back as he did so. He tried to move, but he felt numb, _painfully_ numbed.

The mortal didn't move away immediately, he looked around first and saw a wild boar just beside them, several arrows protruding from his body. It moved still, but it was as good as dead. He looked down immediately at the Elf, realization dawning on him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"You could have been killed! You're supposed to be the predator and not the prey!" Legolas managed to say without sounding too injured, but his breath hitched slightly as pain overwhelmed his senses.

Estel, still a bit shaken from surprise and his fall to really notice anything, just shook his head and lifted himself a little from the other to ease his weight from Legolas, but not entirely moving away. "I'm sorry," he said again, words having left him. Then, he frowned as he looked down on the Elf. He brought a hand to Legolas' cheek, guiding his face so that they were looking at each other. "You are hurt?" The Elf was getting pale.

Elladan and Elrohir arrived soundlessly to where they were, and both had arched a brow when they found Estel lying atop of Legolas, a dead boar beside them. It was almost comical and such sight was reserved for a funny tale around a campfire. But any comments or laughter was forgotten as they noticed the blood slowly seeping on the ground underneath their prone forms.

Legolas didn't answer, but closed his eyes tight and bit his lip. "You weren't careful enough," he merely said. Pain washed through him in great waves and he could feel a jagged tip of rock pushed deeper into his back at the slightest movements.

Estel moved away to check him for injuries and noticed the little blood showing on the ground beneath them. He didn't notice his brothers were already on his side.

And he was unable to move, numbed as he was with fear and dread with the realization that it was his entire fault and Legolas was hurt, until he felt himself being helped to his feet by his brothers.

* * *

It wasn't quite night yet but the sun was almost hidden in the heavens, leaving the sky in the dark purple and orange hue of twilight.

After the initial explanations and a recount of what happened, they had been moving around the camp quietly, not feeling the need to speak at all. Estel and Legolas hadn't spoken since the twins had found them and they clearly felt the tension between their human brother and friend.

Elladan was preparing the wild boar for their dinner, after first admiring and taking note of the fine shooting of Legolas. The Mirkwood archer had shot his arrows all in the right places. Each arrow, all five of them, were meant to immobilize and kill and not one arrow missed its mark to do so. Elladan was beyond impressed.

Elrohir had started the fire, and when he walked back to his twin and the dead animal, he gave a low whistle of admiration, observing each arrow's mark. He crouched down beside his brother. "If this was a double-arrowed shot," he mouthed to his brother, still keeping the silence, as he motioned to two arrows situated in two _far _different locations. "I'd shoot myself."

"Better do so now, because I think it is," Elladan mouthed back. "I can't tell which arrow was shot first."

Elrohir glanced back at their other Elven companion, whose face was withdrawn and thoughtful. "If we were to ask, I suggest we do it later."

Elladan easily read his brother's lips and he, too, discretely glanced back. Seeing his human brother's guilt-ridden and worried features and the prince of Mirkwood's hardened expression, he completely agreed with his twin.

Legolas sat a little away from them. His tunic was laid beside him on the log. He was bare from chest up. Estel hovered around him as the young human carefully tended to his injuries – a few scratches and one grave wound.

The young human pursed his lips. The silence was killing him. He frowned at the red and long welt that ran diagonally on Legolas' back, ending in a puncture wound on his lower back. A sharp rock, deeply embedded in the soil, scratched the Elf prince from his shoulder to the middle of his back from their hard slide and impact. Legolas had landed on it, burying the tip for more than an inch or so.

It was not a severe or life threatening wound, being too shallow to pierce through vitals, but it bled profusely – and if Legolas' reactions were any indication, it had also hurt much. It was not something to be dismissed as a mere scratch. With the twins' help, Estel had managed to staunch the bleeding, and with an unspoken agreement, both left him to finish tending to the Mirkwood Elf.

"I'm sorry," Estel said, and to him, his voice sounded too little. His guilt was great. If it wasn't for him, Legolas would not be even hurt.

"It was nothing," Legolas replied, voice in a terse whisper. He knew the twins heard them, but it was polite to at least try to keep the conversation to themselves.

Estel almost winced at the Elf's tone.

Legolas ignored the way the human's hands slightly faltered with his reply as the mortal wrapped the bandages across his chest. Estel had been careless. He had seen the wild boar seemingly mere inches from biting off the boy's head! What if he hadn't been there? He had barely enough time to release his arrows, making him use one triple-arrowed shot and two double-arrowed shots before he pushed Estel out of the way of jagged teeth that was still heading to him, dead boar or not.

He felt Estel move behind him, and he focused his attention to the kindled campfire instead.

Estel finished his work in silence. He neatly tucked the loose bandage to finish. Finishing his task, he paused for a moment before walking in front of Legolas. He kneeled down in front of the Mirkwood prince.

Legolas was startled for a moment.

"Please, Legolas, I'm sorry," he said softly. With the fingers of his one hand, he guided the Elf's face by his chin that the Elf might look directly at him to plead with his eyes as well. He then laid his hands to the Elf's knees and tightened his grip on them momentarily. "I was careless."

Legolas gazed back at those pleading eyes, and somewhere in his memory, he was reminded of his young charge, a child with unquenchable thirst for knowledge and, to their deep regret, mischief, but who was otherwise mortal. And mortals simply did not live forever. There was supposed to be no room for recklessness, no room for mistakes. Those could only make their already short lives shorter.

Finally, he sighed. He moved his hand and reached it up to Estel's face. The young human tensed under the unexpected intimacy for just a moment, before relaxing again, completely at ease as if it were the most normal thing.

_And maybe it was._

"You _are _careless, adan."

Estel smiled, recognizing the affection for what it was. "Forgive me then?"

Legolas shook his head, his features finally softened. "There is nothing to forgive," he said, but his face was thoughtful yet, and solemn.

"Legolas?"

Legolas felt his chest constrict when he looked at Estel. He held his face firmly, albeit gently, and looking into his eyes, he merely said, "You are mortal, Estel."

With deep regret, Estel understood all that was left unsaid in that statement, and with a sigh, he closed his eyes. Slightly leaning into Legolas' touch, he just said, "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't do it again," Legolas said as he ran a thumb across a still smooth cheek before letting go. He then stood up, reaching for his tunic and walked towards the fire, leaving Estel kneeling there for a moment before the human stood up as well and fixed his things.

They continued on their camping, and the twins had to wonder at the fact that it seemed as if the events prior and any misunderstandings didn't happen at all.

* * *

_It was in moments such as the one just mentioned that Elladan and Elrohir, twin sons of Elrond, realized the innocence in the affection and love that bound their friend, the Prince of Mirkwood and their human brother. _

_And such love the sons of Elrond deemed pure and untainted for it carried no malice and sought not to possess and restrain. It was something that was freely given and returned._

_But although all was well, no words were exchanged and no promises were made. Content they were to share such nameless affection and bond that bordered on friendship, care and love that was like no other._

_The scarce moments the two shared affection and intimacy came as natural as smiling and shaking hands. They seemed not to notice it themselves. It wasn't mentioned, nor was it given special notice. It was just there, part of their already wordless companionship and friendship._

* * *

Estel couldn't believe it. "What?" 

"I said, you are not going anywhere, so there is no bother packing," Elrond said, shaking his head.

Elladan chuckled but when Estel threw him a sharp look, he coughed deliberately and otherwise remained quiet."

"But you heard the news. Some of the rangers travel south to Rohan. To Rohan, ada. I have never been to Rohan," Estel argued his second point, his first being which to give aid and help. News from the Dúnedain had arrived and informed them that some of the rangers would be traveling south to the realm of Rohan to gather news and information. Orcs in the south had been steadily increasing.

Usually, such news would send the twin sons of Elrond and Estel packing. But right now, his father had just forbidden him to go. Forbidden! When was the last time that he was forbidden to travel? He couldn't remember.

"Yes, son. I am aware of that. But you are needed here yet."

"But Father!"

Legolas, who was just on his way to the private dining room where they would break their fast, frowned and stopped, hearing Estel's voice; it seemed thoroughly displeased. He then continued walking, hastening his pace.

When he reached the threshold of the room, he saw Elrond and his three sons seated around the table already. Lady Gilraen was not yet there.

"That is too far south, Estel. Time has not yet come for you to travel beyond the borders of the north. The rangers had come here to bear news and not ask for aid," Elrond said in a calm yet firm tone that told Legolas that there was no changing his mind.

Estel frowned. He didn't understand. His father had not restrained him from traveling since... he was thirteen years, maybe even younger. He had traveled widely for someone his age and was always abroad with the sons of Elrond and occasionally with the rangers.

Legolas made his way to his seat that was beside Estel. He each greeted the twins silently while Estel and Lord Elrond didn't seem to notice his entrance.

"But I…" Estel had started but Legolas laid a hand on his arm.

Estel looked to his side and met Legolas' eyes as the Elf took his seat beside him. He saw Legolas minutely raise a brow in a silent inquiry. He frowned for a moment, before his face took on a pleading look, his eyes darting to the direction of his father before instantly returning to Legolas.

Legolas took note of Elrond's features, as the Elf lord conversed with one of the Elves serving breakfast, and merely sighed. There was no changing Elrond's mind, from what he could see. He just shrugged slightly, barely noticeable, and looked down at his set of silverware.

After a moment, Estel shook his head and sighed as well.

"Very well," he said, and to the twins, who had been watching them, didn't know if that acknowledgement of resignation was for Legolas or for their father.

Elrond broke off what he was saying to the Elf servant to look at his son in surprise. He hadn't expected Estel to just suddenly drop the discussion. He had already prepared to make himself deaf to his son's pleas, which he knew could last for days.

Movement caught his eye and he saw Legolas' hand drop from Estel's arm. He almost smiled, understanding what had suddenly made Estel change his mind. If only _his_ simple touch could do so much, he would have been a pleasantly happy and content father. But alas, he was not given such gift. That, or he was just gifted with three stubborn, hard-headed sons.

Celebrian, however, had that same calming effect on him. With a touch and a look, she could manage to calm him, or make him change his mind and… Elrond frowned in thought as a thought occurred to him.

_Legolas and Estel…_

He inwardly shook his head. _What they shared had long since passed the borders of spoken words, _he thought. Gilraen had been right, and it grieved him to see that what they could have had was not meant to be.

The Mirkwood prince had been staying in Imladris for a period of three months now. The tension that Elrond initially felt between his foster-son and the prince was long gone, replaced by mutual companionship and friendship. Maybe, he thought, perhaps love as well.

He feared greatly for them both still, but he reveled on the innocence of their love and did nothing to hinder it. It was not his place to do so.

"Time would have you in the southern realms, my son, but that time is not yet now," he said. "You've things yet to do and accomplish before you will be faced with the Lords of the south."

Elrond's tone brought an unfamiliar feeling to Legolas' heart. He remained silent as they conversed, but he wondered at the meaning behind the Elf lord's words. They had an ominous ring to it, as though Elrond was speaking from his visions and not his thoughts. And, not for the first time, Legolas wondered about Estel's identity. He wanted ask then, if only to clear the sense of foreboding that suddenly resided in him. He hadn't asked before, because it was not proper of him to do so. He merely accepted what Lord Elrond had said to him of Estel.

_"He is not the first human to dwell here. I'm sure you know." _He didn't, but he nodded anyway. Looking at Elrond then, he realized that the Elf lord knew that he didn't.

He knew something about the Dúnedain rangers and their Chieftains. They were Elf friends and they came and went into and out of Imladris. Even the sons of Elrond traveled with them.

He frowned as he noticed that his thoughts were unordered and unclear. He shook his head slightly as his first thought of Estel's identity slipped away from him. Before he could gain any order in his thoughts, Gilraen arrived, and the thought of the human's identity was pushed further back in his mind as they all rose in proper greeting to a lady before seating down as she sat to begin their day with a meal.

* * *

_This way of wordless exchange didn't last long. However, as time would prove, it wouldn't be forever lost. As fate brought them back together, time came when it would take their paths into two separate directions. One was to live as a King in exile and the other, as a Prince in duty, and it would be many more decades before they were to walk the same path again, reach for the same goal, fight for the same cause because that time, the summons from Mirkwood came sooner than what Legolas, its prince, had hoped. _

* * *

Elrond watched as Legolas fingers tightened its hold on the parchment that he was reading. The prince's face was in a thoughtful frown as he went over the letter that had just arrived from Mirkwood.

"Is something wrong?" he asked when Legolas didn't move yet but just stared at the seemingly offending letter.

His question brought Legolas' eyes to him.

"I am being recalled," was his soft answer.

At this, Elrond placed the quill that he was holding on the table, lest he drop it. "So soon?"

The young Elf nodded. His face was in a thoughtful frown. He suddenly felt torn inside. He would have to leave Imladris. But it was too soon. He had been barely there for five months!

Elrond knew that Legolas was not exactly fond of the idea of leaving right now. The last time he was here, he had been attached to the young Estel that it saddened him much to leave his young charge behind. But now that their bond was deeper, the Elf lord could only imagine what it was that the prince was feeling.

"You would go?" he asked hesitantly.

Legolas face changed into a firm resolve. "I have to. There had been incidents that need my immediate attention. No matter how much I would wish to remain longer here in your fair valley, my lord, I have to go."

"Surely your father might understand?" Elrond asked further. Thranduil was not there. The Mirkwood king was not given a chance to see the growing bond between his son and the young human that dwelt under Elrond's house.

Legolas didn't notice Elrond's words. If he did, then he would have wondered what it was he was referring to that his father might understand. "I must go. I am summoned," Legolas just said, determined, but underneath his tone, one could hear that he still wished to remain, if only for a while. "It is my duty to obey my king and father."

_And your heart, young prince?__ Is it not your duty to obey your heart?_ Elrond asked quietly with his eyes as he looked at the prince.

"I am needed by my people," he continued as he met the Elf lord's gaze evenly.

It seemed to Elrond that the Mirkwood prince was convincing him as much as he was also convincing himself.

"Very well then. When do you plan to depart?" Elrond asked.

Legolas was about to answer when the slightly opened door to the study was pushed fully open, bringing both Elf to look at the disturbance.

The golden haired prince tensed when he was met with the smiling face of Estel.

"There you are, Legolas. Are you planning on getting left behind? Come! We plan to pass Bruinen before the sun sets," he said hurriedly. His smile faded somewhat when he noticed that the two occupants of the room didn't share his cheerful disposition.

"Ada? Legolas?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

Elrond then turned his gaze to Legolas and when Estel turned his eyes as well to the Mirkwood prince, Legolas looked away.

He didn't plan on telling Estel this way and this soon, but he had to before the human heard it from someone else.

"I am to leave in a few days, a week at the most," he said, tone even.

It took a while for his words to make sense to Estel. "What?"

_Oh, Valar, don't make me repeat it,_ Legolas thought. Instead of answering, he looked up at Estel, his eyes telling the other that he hadn't heard wrong. But looking into Estel's eyes nearly brought his resolve to crumble. It shone with emotions that he was not yet ready to face. It had been easier when there were no complications, when Estel was still young and still the student.

_Why?_ Estel's eyes seemed to ask. _Why now?_

_Yes, why now when they shared a friendship that was unlike no other, an understanding that needed no words._

_I'm sorry,_ was all that Legolas seemed to convey.

Elrond felt the need to leave, but he couldn't without bringing both of Legolas' and Estel's attention to him. The wordless conversation wasn't lost on him.

Not long after, Estel spoke. "I'll inform my brothers then," was all he said before leaving the study without so much as a glance.

Legolas sighed before sinking heavily into a cushioned chair just beside him, not trusting himself to stand upright.

And with sadness in his eyes that was full of wisdom acquired through long years of existence, Elrond looked at him. He felt sympathy for the prince for though he knew that young Legolas was of strong mind, spirit and heart, Thranduil's son could still feel the clutches of pain and grief.

* * *

_And the moon traveled high that night as the sun sailed the skies by day, but the changing of days and nights didn't change the fate unfolding before their path. They were bound to be separated, just as they were fated to meet. _

_But fate and destiny were two abstract concepts that could never be explained, never be understood, and never be fathomed. _

_What were they really? Were there such things as fate and destiny? Or were they just created as names for the things unexplainable and events that seemed to just simply _be

_No matter, fate and destiny were already two constants in the lives of the children of Eru as each had a part to play, a song to sing, a tale to tell in the Great Music. _

_What love and friendship Estel Peredhil and Legolas Thranduilion shared was just simply meant to happen. It was the part they played together, a song they sang in unison, and a tale they wove as one._

_But just as some things were simply _were_ there were also some things that just simply _were not, _no matter how much one would wish otherwise._

* * *

**_t b c . . ._**

**Author's Notes: **

And thus this tale would soon come to a close. Within a month's time, more or less, I would hopefully be able to post the final chapter of this story, which I thought would never be finished the way it was supposed to be. So reminder to all of you out there, have a backup to your files. You never know when technology will decide to backfire on you.

Drop me a note and let me know what you think before the final part. Thank you. The final chapter's gonna be out soon, I hope. Til then!


	7. Part 7

**a/n** And now at last _we come now to the end_.

* * *

**Title:** Kindled Flame  
**Author:** Keithan  
**Disclaimers:** Lord of the Rings and its characters belongs to their respective owners.  
**Rating:** PG  
**Series:** 7/7; Complete  
**Warnings:** None other than implied love between same gender. _mild__/implied slash _; legolas/(estel)aragorn; (estel)aragorn/Legolas  
**Summary:** Having no tale to tell of its story would not mean that the light from the love of hope and its green leaves did not exist. But of the time when Hope was young, unburdened still of the cares and troubles of the world, only this tale was told.  
**Notes: **Aragorn and Legolas, a sort of back story. When it was said in the appendices that Elrond receives Aragorn as a foster-son, I take that to mean exactly that.  
This takes place in Imladris and all dialogues may be assumed to have been spoken in Elvish.

**

* * *

**

**Kindled Flame  
part 7**

* * *

The light from the house soon became blurred patches of yellow between the thick foliage as Legolas walked further and deeper into the surrounding gardens and woods of Imladris. Rain had poured slightly yet incessantly since the evening meal.

His hood covered much of his face and his cloak was wrapped tightly around him. No matter how much he would want to feel the rain on his skin, it wouldn't be good to get himself wet. Inside his cloak, his hand clutched a bundle of cloth, careful in keeping it dry.

The sons of Elrond had cancelled the trip that they were supposed to take a few days ago and Legolas would like to think that it was because of the coming rains. Dark clouds had appeared in the sky that told them the coming days would not be exactly ideal for some prolonged outdoor activity. Yes, they cancelled it because of the unpredictable weather that they would have in the coming days, not because of his departure.

Or at least that was what he told himself.

He would set out for Mirkwood in the morn, and by then, he was sure the sun would already be shining. He also knew, from the summons he received, that he would be staying there for quite some time.

He had spent the afternoon in his room, laughing with the sons and foster-son of Elrond as he packed. Though there was a strain in his room, a blatant tension among them. His smile didn't reach his eyes, and Estel had been unusually quiet.

He had not seen the human since.

In the distance, his sharp hearing could pick up the sounds of running water. There were many courses of water that passed through Imladris, and he changed his path and turned to the direction of the small stream he knew would be there.

Not long after, there was a break in the tree line and he stopped, seeing the figure of Estel sitting on a log on the banks of the flowing stream. He wasn't soaked, not yet. The rain was only pouring in small amounts but the young human had already been graciously wet, telling Legolas that he had been out there for some time.

Estel flipped the hair from his eyes. The rain water had been matting it down his face. He didn't know how much time he had spent there, but he knew he must be going back soon. Yet he remained still, just feeling the rain, listening to the sounds around him and just... staying still, hoping time would as well.

But he knew it would not.

A soft sigh escaped his lips. Shortly after, he was startled out of his thoughts when something was gently placed in his shoulders. He looked up behind him to see Legolas place a dry cloak around him, arranging it on his shoulders to prevent it from falling off.

He looked away, but he reached out to grab hold of the cloak and wrapped it around his nearly soaked body, suddenly aware that he was cold and was grateful for the warmth. He felt Legolas reach for the hood of the cloak to place it on his head.

He said nothing.

Legolas remained silent as well.

The Mirkwood prince continued to stand unmoving just a little behind the log Estel was sitting on, but the human acutely felt his silent presence.

The silence between them continued unbroken, a silence that was waiting to be breeched.

"You are cold. We must get back." The sounds of the pouring rain weren't enough to drown out the softly spoken words of Legolas.

"I am fine," Estel answered. "Thank you," he said, tightening the cloak to show that he was grateful for it.

And yet again, silence ruled them.

"You are leaving tomorrow?" Estel whispered after a while.

"I have to," was Legolas' answer, equally soft in volume.

A moment, then, "I know."

Somewhere in the dark of the night, a squirrel scrambled to find shelter from the pouring rain that promised a harder downfall later in the night. It was dark. The light from the stars and the moon was obscured by rain clouds that seemed to have no intention of moving any time soon.

"So soon," Estel whispered for a while.

Legolas knew it was not a question, but he replied to it anyway and somehow, his words were a reflection of Estel's just a while ago. "I know."

By some odd way, they both knew that this time, their goodbye would be different. Both felt that if they parted then, they would be parted forever. But it could not be helped. There was nothing to be done.

Somewhere in their hearts, they knew that it would be long before they would see each other again. Both felt it, and it made the parting all the more difficult.

But neither said anything.

Their goodbye remained unspoken, yet no less meaningful.

Estel stood up then, unconsciously shivering as the cold night breeze blew.

Legolas reached up to unfasten his own cloak. He stepped closer behind the Estel and reached around the mortal to wrap it in front of him for a second layer of protective clothing.

His movements stilled when he felt a cold hand enclosed his wrist, his arm encircled around Estel's neck.

He said nothing.

Estel remained silent as well.

And both stood close to each other, unmoving.

The rain continued to fall.

Estel's eyes were focused on the flowing stream yet he was well aware of Legolas just behind him, his hand holding the Elf's wrist. In a voice that betrayed his chill, he said softly, "Let's go home."

And the words tore at each of their hearts for they knew that now that they had _said_ their goodbye, acknowledged their parting, what was left for them was to relish the remaining time they had and not spend it in the shadow of Legolas' departure.

The Elf prince nodded even though the human would not be able to see it. Estel released his hold on him and he then continued to wrap his cloak on the slightly shivering form. He clasped the cloak's end behind the human, just between his shoulders.

His eyes blurred, the rain getting into his face now that he had no hood to protect it. The vision of Estel in front of him became unclear for a while.

And before he could do anything else, he found himself leaning his forehead to Estel's back, his hand still tightly clasping his own cloak that now protected the young human from the cold.

Elrond's foster-son didn't say anything when he felt a weight on his back. He didn't move either. He just closed his eyes and allowed himself to _just_ feel.

And they stayed that way for a while.

"You and I," Legolas uttered, the words a mere rush of air from his lips. He could see the droplets of water that ran down his nose, chin and some on his hair fall on the already wet ground below joining the other rain drops that continued to fall from the sky.

His sentence was left hanging. He didn't continue, nor did he know how to.

Estel opened his eyes, looking beneath the hood that hid half of his face at the flowing waters once more. He felt his chest tighten and constrict. "...will meet again," he continued for the other.

And despite it all, Legolas smiled.

He straightened up then, adjusting the cloak so that it rested comfortably on Estel's shoulders. The shiver that went through the human's body didn't go unnoticed. "You are cold," he said, picking up the thread of the conversation they had earlier.

"I am fine."

"We must go back."

Estel was silent for a moment, not making a move. Then in a soft whisper, he spoke, "I want to stay."

He was then pulled back against a warm chest as Legolas' arm was around his shoulders once more, holding him close. He sighed, and leaned back, slightly.

"We couldn't."

Estel felt more than heard the words spoken near his hooded ear, felt also the vibration of sound on the Elf's chest. He closed his eyes, tight. "I know."

Both knew that they could not stay, not there beside a small stream and under the pouring rain or in their seemingly timeless haven that they had created in Imladris. Time slipped from their fingers as it would in an hour glass. They could not stay. When the morning comes, Legolas would have to return to Mirkwood, Estel would have to live his life and make his way into the world. Nay, they could not stay.

The rain was steadily pouring and would increase in amount any time soon. They had to go.

Estel finally turned around. Legolas let his arm drop to his side as he took a step back to gain distance once more.

And for the first time since Legolas arrived, their eyes met. And a thousand words passed through them, although their meanings were not exactly known.

Legolas' hair was damp, and the rain started to soak through his clothes, unprotected now by the cloak he gave to Estel. His form glowed faintly in the dark of the night as he held the other's gaze steadily.

"You're going to get wet," Estel said after a while, seeing that he had the Elf's cloak and Legolas had no other protection from the weather.

It seemed that both of them concerned themselves with such trivialities, small unimportant things. But it was enough. Such things spoke much without really saying anything at all.

"I will be fine," Legolas answered.

The wind blew and it was too harsh and cold for a drenched young human to take in an already cold rainy night.

Estel tightened the cloak beneath the Legolas' own, his hands hidden beneath two layers of clothing.

Legolas reached the back of his hand to Estel's face, feeling the cold wet skin under his touch. "Estel, you are cold," he said yet again.

"Yes," the human finally admitted. Tilting his head slightly to the touch, he closed his eyes for a moment before meeting Legolas' eyes again.

The prince smiled gently, yet almost sadly. "Then come," he said. "Let us go home."

* * *

_And thus it was._

_Their goodbye had taken on a bittersweet taste on their tongues and left a bittersweet imprint of memory in their minds. _

_Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Mirkwood, then took leave of Lord Elrond of Imladris and journeyed back home where sunlight only reached the ground in mere patches of white._

_Not long after, darkness crept back into the south of the realm of Mirkwood just as it crept steadily to encompass Middle-earth and it was not fated that Estel, foster-son of Elrond Halfelven, should meet the Prince of Mirkwood for many long years more._

_Yet even though each had their own paths, own battles and wars to fight, their love that was kept in their hearts remained innocent and pure, untainted still and perhaps forever would be, of the darkness that readily threatened to overwhelm the lands of Arda._

_Long years in the span of time for Men would pass before their paths crossed again, and once more, they would find themselves caught and wound around fate's play of its web._

* * *

And thus this part of this tale had come to a close. Of their love thereafter, once again, no tale had been told as yet for another love shone and of it much was told for much of it was known to many.

This love was of the love of the Elfstone and the Evenstar.

But having no tale to tell of its story or song to sing of its beauty would not mean that the light from the love of _hope_ and its _green leaves_ did not exist nor did it not shine any longer. For it did.

And with its light, hope remained bright like a shining beacon in the darkness that engulfed Middle-earth at the end of the age.

_**.end.  
**And_ _so it is written, but this end might just very well be a beginning for two souls forever entwined in the endless web of fate and destiny, and two hearts forever dancing the endless waltz of love, heartbreak, and hope._

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_"You and I will meet again."_  
_-Into the West_

_"...two hearts forever dancing the endless waltz of love, heartbreak, and hope."  
-inspired by Gundam Wing: Endless Waltz _

Now that I have finally dished out a multi-chaptered fic after my first and so far my only non-one-shot LotR fics, _Things Unspoken _and _The Slap of Mortality_, I finally can have the privilege of bringing you some real story notes, which are actually author's notes, but most of them are already said before in answer to some questions and some are only short notes on the story. I believe the story already or should speak for itself so most of it are my views and thoughts on things connected to the story. I will not be explaining detail by detail of the story here. I'm sorry if some are confusing, I'm writing this from my mind, and well, we all know minds are mazes. :D

**Story (Author's) Notes: **(since most doesn't only apply to the story but to my writing in LotR)

_Setting:_

_Elrond took the place of his father and came to love him as a son of his own. But he was called Estel, that is 'Hope', and his true name and lineage were kept secret at the bidding of Elrond; for the Wise then knew that the Enemy was seeking to discover the Heir of Isildur, if any remained upon earth._

_But when Estel was only twenty years of age, it chanced that he returned to Rivendell after great deeds in the company of the sons of Elrond, and Elrond looked at him and was pleased, for he saw that he was fair and noble and was early come to manhood, though he would yet become greater in body and in mind.  
_LotR Appendix A, Tale of Aragorn and Arwen

As for the setting in Imladris, although it is not really the main focus of the story, I tried to outline what could have been Estel's life when growing up. Having the above passage as basis, I sketched in the story how he could have grown up in Elrond's care. I had Estel travel often with his brothers at an early age since he was already well traveled by twenty. How I had him help Elrond and the herb-master in stocking the herbs would be able to explain how he had honed his skills and knowledge on healing and herb lore, and so on…

And of course, as this is fanfiction, in _Kindled Flame_, Legolas had a hand in helping Estel grow and mature, in teaching him skills and certain ways of life, being a role model, and unknowingly teaching him the strength of his heart and spirit. I'd like to imagine that he couldn't have come to manhood that early and mature that early without having experienced or encountering some kind of emotional turmoil and pain or something. (His father's death happened when he was but a child, so that doesn't really count) And separation from someone we hold dear is one of the painful things we have to face in our lives.

So in comes Legolas, and the night when they parted, in the last chapter (seen above), was like an opening of Estel's eyes to the world as he struggles to finally leave the last of his childhood behind to be able to face the bitterness of parting. And I imagined that after that night, Estel had grown up… or something like that… hahaha. (See notes on ending below)

_Characters: _

_.Aragorn and Arwen _(because I cannot write fanfiction without at least acknowledging canon)

As for Aragorn and Arwen, I must admit that I think one of the best works that Tolkien had ever written was the Tale of Aragorn and Arwen. I had read it many times over and I feel it every time. I actually felt tears in my eyes the first few times. That is why, regardless of what I write, I hold their love in high respect and probably because of this, most of what I had written so far had some measure of angst. That is also probably why, in my work, I always had Aragorn and Legolas meet before the Man turned 20 if ever that is mentioned.

_.Legolas and Estel_

_"But the flame has been kindled and its flare will continue to blaze blindingly unto the ends of the world."  
_Kindled Flame

As for Aragorn and Legolas, in the realm of fanfiction (or not), I believe that their love, _friendship or otherwise_, is/(could be) pure and innocent, an untainted and unadulterated love between two beings. I believe that that love, friendship and devotion to each other, unspoken though as they were in the books, are things that are always present between them, things that could never be measured in depth and strength.

It is because of this belief that I am able to write them despite of my other belief of Aragorn and Arwen's love. _Why _I write them, however, would take a longer explanation and would eventually turn into why I write fanfiction and this is neither the place nor time to discuss it, so I would not bore you with that. :D

_.Gilraen and Elrond_

As for Gilraen and Elrond, they were good tools to use to be able to watch Estel and Legolas in an unbiased point of view and also be able to explain things that I can't just explain out of nowhere. I think it is the first time I acknowledged Gilraen in my works – I hope I had portrayed her well.

_Story:_

As for the story, taking into account all the notes I have written above, you could probably see why I wrote the story the way I did, especially since I was aiming for this to be in the canon timeline. I distinctly set it before Estel turns 20, because (1) it's easier for me to think their love possible if it happened _before_ Arwen, (2) it is easier to imagine young Estel to fall for Legolas when he's still unburdened of his duties and his heritage, although it can also be otherwise, of course, and, (3) with the way Tolkien wrote Aragorn and Arwen's love, I can't see Aragorn betraying Arwen, but having his love for Legolas vague, unnamed, and unacknowledged, and practically unknown, he wouldn't really be betraying Arwen outright when the time comes that he realizes the depth of his love for the Elf prince now, would he? (I'm sorry, this is probably confusing you! If you want a portrayal of what I meant here in fiction, I think, more or less, all my LotR stories portray this, but most are one-shots, only _T__hings Unspoken_ is not.)

_.Ending_

And that is also why I ended it the way I did. I ended it in a way that would make it possible for Aragorn to be able to love Arwen. Because if I ended it with them, Legolas and Estel, being able to give name and voice their feelings of love, I can't see Arwen and Aragorn happening. And since I aimed for this story to be in canon, I can't really bring them together at this point. Or in other words, if I ended this with them facing and acknowledging their feelings for each other, I wouldn't be placing this story in canon, it would be a complete AU, because I don't see Aragorn betraying Legolas, thus no Arwen happening there. So as much as possible, I left both Legolas' and Estel's feelings, especially Legolas', vague at most (well at least to them, but of course, to you readers might be as obvious as the sun in the day :D), and very close friendship-like, which is also true.

And as I said above, the ending more or less serves as the last of Estel's childhood as he faces the pain of parting. He is forced to grow up and face the reality that the world isn't just in the safe havens of Imladris, that orcs are not the only demons he has to face, and that the timelessness in his homeland valley isn't at all timeless as time continues to move and take things away from him. After this story, I imagine that he would now face the world and leave Imladris for a time (yes, with the rangers and sons of Elrond) and come back when he's twenty. (and he has already done those great deeds with the Els. :D) This is only a simple experience in Estel's lives, but well, sometimes, the greatest lessons in life are learned from small experiences and moments.

Having said all that, I had hoped this story could be a background of what _could be_ Aragorn and Legolas' love in the LotR timeline.

**_Thanks!_**

Alexandra Amy docmon empath89 grumpy Isildwen Jadesaber Joshua Nenya Laebeth Landorie Legoviel Losing Grip Lyn nevermind SadieSil sielge silvertears630 silvertoekee Starlit Hope The tmelange trustingfriendship and to all those who doesn't review, thank you as well, although I wish you'd at least let me know you're reading. :) Those who emailed me, you know who you are, thank you. If I missed anyone, I'm sorry, just tell me! Also, just inform me of any typos and/or mistakes. :D

This is the last time I'd be able to hear from you about this story, so please do tell me what you think! :) Until my next fic! And I almost forgot, HAPPY HOLIDAYS everyone! Merry Christmas to all of you. :D

_Don't say we have come now to the end,  
__You and I will meet again...  
_.intothewest.


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